The Flicker and the Flare
by Jane Willow
Summary: Post Rent - The Bohos have been through a lot the past year: rehab, booze, dreams, pills, suicide and affairs. Can they find their way back to each other, even if the odds seemed stacked against them? Perhaps more importantly, can they find Roger?
1. Girl

**Part One: Where Were You When Everything was Falling Apart?  
**- _You Found Me,_ The Fray

Ch. 1 - POV:** Lily.**

**"Is there anybody going to listen to my story?"  
**- _Girl_, The Beatles

I played with the ring on my finger, absently, ignoring the other people in the coffee shop as they walked by. It was so busy I was pushed to one of the far tables, near the back window, and I occasionally looked out to see if it had stopped snowing yet. It hadn't, but at least I was letting up. The shop was busy and loud, but at least it was warm. I tuned out the noise around me – it was easy when I was looking at that ring.

"_Excuse me_? Hello?"

I quickly looked up, finally roused out of my trance.

The man standing across from me smiled. "Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

I shook my head, forcing myself to smile back. "You didn't," I assured him, as well as I could manage.

"Can I sit here?"

I quickly glanced around the shop. There were clearly no other seats, or at least not many. How could I say no? Besides, he looked harmless.

The man sat across from me after shrugged off his coat and undoing his scarf. He started to sip his tea.

"I'm Lily," I said after a little while, not wanting to lapse into an awkward silence.

"Mark," the man said, holding out his hand across the table.

I shook it, smiling. He was cute. "So, Mark… what brings you to Cate's Coffee at noon on a Tuesday?"

I watched as his took another sip of his tea, the blue in his eyes magnified behind his glasses.

Mark shrugged, setting down his cup. "Just something to do."

"Taking a day off?"

"Quite as few days, actually," Mark said, smiling again.

I raised my eyebrow, curiously.

"I'm from New York," he said, as if that explained everything.

"So, what brings you to Chicago?"

He thought for a minute. "The tea," he said goofily, taking another sip.

I sipped my coffee, too, and smiled back. "That it?"

Mark shrugged. "I just needed to get away for a few days, I guess."

I recognized the look on his face – he did _not_ want to elaborate, but my curiosity got the best of me. I knew I shouldn't have said it, but I did anyways. "Get away from what?"

Mark just shook his head, giving me a little, forced smile. "It doesn't matter, you don't really want to know."

I twisted the ring on my finger, wondering how I let the conversation get this heavy so soon. But I went on. "Yes I do."

Mark sighed, as if preparing himself. "You _sure_?"

"Positive."

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out his legs under the table, getting comfortable. "Then prepare for a story."

I nodded, pushing my hair back behind my ear.

"There were five of us who lived together," he began. "Me, Maureen, Roger, Benny, and Collins. Benny got married and moved away." He looked up at me, as if silently asking if I was sure I wanted him to go on. _You sure about this?_ I hated that look – _she_ used to do it all the time. But, when I said nothing, we went on. "Then one of our friends died… suicide," he murmured, softly, "… her name was April."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

Mark just shook his head. "It gets better," he muttered, sarcastically, "Roger – that was her boyfriend, my best friend – he and April were into heroin… they both had AIDS."

My heart stopped. I was beginning to wonder whether or not I should have asked about this. I was worried Mark might start crying or something… but he seemed oddly detached from the whole story, denying himself the chance to get emotional.

He continued. "Then Roger got clean met Mimi, and Collins and Maureen met Angel and Joanne. And for about a year, it was just the seven of us… well, plus Benny. He'd married into money and was our landlord."

I laughed lightly. "That's kind of ironic."

Mark smiled, too, a little sadly. "Yeah. He and Mimi… they had a thing, I guess. It tore Roger up, even if it was mostly in his head. Mimi was into heroin, too… and it didn't help anything when Angel died." He got very quiet and I leaned in to make sure I didn't miss a word. "She died of AIDS, too… and Mimi and Collins had it. We were all really... _scared_. It just kept takign more and more from us."

I swallowed, my brow furrowed. It was almost horrifying how easily he was able to tell me these tragedies… the fact that they all happened to one person was devastating.

Mark inhaled deeply, staring blankly at the table in front of him. "Joanne moved up to Detroit and she and Maureen broke up - they had always had a rocky relationship, but this time it was for good. Then Mimi died. Roger took it really hard. _Really_ hard. He got _back_ into heroin… he's in rehab right now. Maureen moved back into the loft – that's where most of us lived," he explained, "and now Collins is teaching at Boston University or somewhere like that… God knows where everyone else is."

Mark looked up, finally finished his story.

My heart was beating out of my chest.

"And then I came to Chicago. Just to get a way for a while."

"I'm really sorry, Mark."

He sighed. "Don't be." Again, he sipped his tea. "Not like you could have changed anything."

I felt the dreaded lump in my throat and hope my voice wouldn't crack. "Still…"

"We've all got sob-stories," he sighed.

I decided to wait until I shared mine. Although Mark was somehow disconnected from his story, he still seemed a bit too shook up for me to share anything. Besides, even though he had just poured his heart out to a stranger, I wasn't exactly willing to recipricate.

"So, uh, when do you go back?" I ventured to ask.

"Three weeks. Roger comes back home in a month, if everything goes according to schedule. I'll be there to help Maureen with him. There's only us."

"It must have been really hard on Roger…" I mused, more to myself then Mark.

"It was… It _is_."

I sighed. "I'm sorry, Mark. I didn't mean for you to have to-"

He shook his head, interrupting me. "Don't think of it…" He gave me a little smile. "I wanted to tell."

"Well, then… I'm glad I could help, I guess."

"Me, too."

For a while we were both quiet, drinking absently.

"So… why are _you_ at Cat's Coffee?"

"_Cate's_," I corrected him, with a little smile.

"Cate's," he repeated. "So, why are you here?"

I sighed, trying to stay upbeat, especially after what he'd told me. "I am currently unemployed. I have to find some way to fill my days."

"How does someone who's unemployed afford a four dollar coffee?"

I gave him a weary smile. "That story's for another day."

He his head a little shake, as if he knew something I didn't. "No day but today," he said, softly, smiling to himself.

Pondering what that could possibly mean, I glanced down at my wrist watch. "I've gotta go," I muttered, "… doctor's appointment."

Mark laughed. "You don't need to lie. You can run away if I scared you."

"You didn't scare me."

"Well, usually people don't meet a pretty girl and tell them their life story… especially a life story like _mine_."

I tried to laugh. "I really _do_ have to go, but you _didn't_ scare me," I insisted. "How about I prove it? Meet me here tomorrow… say, three o'clock?"

Mark smiled. "Okay. I'll be here."

"Great." I grabbed my coat and bag from under the table and stood up. "Bye, Mark."

"I'll see you tomorrow, Lily."

As I left I threw a last glance over my shoulder, grabbing a last look of him drinking his tea. Fiddling with my ring again, I could help but smile. He thought I was _pretty_.

But that thought melted away quickly as I remembered where I was going. And how badly I needed to get there.


	2. Brave

Ch. 2 - POV:** Maureen**

**"I don't know just where I'm goin' and tomorrow is a little overwhelming. And the air is cold. And I'm not the same anymore."  
**- _Brave_, Idina Menzel

I knew I had changed in the last year.

I keep trying to pinpoint exactly when everything went to hell: Was it when I first moved in with Mark and Roger, way back before any of this started? When I cheated on Mark? Left him? When Roger first discovered heroin? When he found out he was sick? When April died? When I met Joanne? When Angel died? When Joanne moved away? When Mimi died? When Roger started using again? When Mark took off to God-knows-where?

When ever it was, I guess it didn't matter. I mean, regardless of _when_ it happened, I would have still been here, alone in the frigid, empty loft, stuck trying to figure out what to do next.

Now _that _was terrifying.

Finally alone long enough to be forced to sort through my own thoughts, the same terrifying question kept popping up: what was I supposed to _do_ with my life? Eventually I knew I had to grow up (talk about _terrifying_). But the world seemed like it was falling apart around me, little pieces of my life breaking off until it was just me standing there alone, like a single actor in a play without the rest of the company. And no frickin' script.

I needed to start doing something steady and stable. Protests and hunger strikes weren't getting me anywhere. I wanted something reliable, something predictable… That was another scary thing about sorting through my thoughts: realizing that life had shaken me so badly that I just wanted something _normal_.

I was twenty five. I felt like I was seventy. I knew I shouldn't have seen so many people leave, so many of my friends die… not at twenty five, right?

It didn't matter. It happened and it's not like I could go back and change it.

(But it _did_ matter and I knew that. It was eating me alive. I had never felt depression like this. It weighed so heavily on my chest sometimes I felt I couldn't breathe.)

I was sitting in the loft, feeling utterly useless and cursing Mark (again) for leaving me here. I had no one left. For the first time in my left I felt truly and completely alone.

It killed me to know Joanne was right. She always told me people wouldn't stay, not if I treated then like I did. And they didn't.

I tried to stop. I didn't want to think about Joanne anymore.

I grabbed my coat and headed outside. I couldn't sit in that place any longer… too many memories, too many ghosts in there. A girl could go crazy if she was in there for too long.

I carefully skipped down the stairs and outside. It was February, and still pretty cold. I pulled my jacket closer around me, unsure of where I was headed.

That's a lie. I knew exactly where.

I figured that for the next few days I'd just stay in a perpetual drunken stupor, and then sober up when Mark got home so I wouldn't slur my words when I yelled at him for leaving me.

I pushed open the door to the Life Café and headed right for the bar. I was depressed that I was there alone, but at least I knew there was cheap booze waiting for me. And, besides, I was alone for two weeks now. I should have been used to it.

"Vodka tonic," I told the waiter, drumming my fingers absently on the counter.

"Hey, stranger."

I spun around to see who had just spoken.

"_Benny_?" I nearly cried, genuinely surprised to see him.

He chuckled. "Yeah, it's me."

Apparently, I wasn't as alone as I'd thought. We hugged each other a little awkwardly. It was the first time we'd seen each other since Mimi's funeral.

"So, um…" I started, taking my glass from the bartender. "How are you?"

Benny shrugged, pulling up a seat beside me. "Fine, I guess. And how about you? Have you heard from Roger?"

"I'm fine, too," I lied. "But I haven't heard from him. He's due home in about a week, though."

"Oh… good."

I nodded. "You should come by some time and see him when he gets back."

Benny shot me a look. "I don't think he really wants to see _me_, Mo."

I shook my head as I took a sip of my drink. I was defiantly going to need copious amounts of alcohol to deal with this. "I'm sure that's all water under the bridge."

But I knew it wasn't. Roger and Benny hadn't really spoken since Roger got back from Santa Fe. Then Mimi got sick – really sick – and Benny was ready, as always, with his cheque book. I always felt that Roger felt guilty he wasn't able to take care of Mimi, but I knew he was bitter that it was Benny who had come to her rescue. I'm pretty sure they'd fought about it, but Roger never admitted to it. They hadn't seen each other since her funeral. None of us has seen him, actually.

Benny just shrugged as he ordered a beer. "I think I'll let him get settled first."

I knew that was code for "no".

"How's Mark?"

I sighed. "I have no idea. He took off a few weeks ago… he said he was going to Chicago, but I haven't heard from him, so I have no idea where he is."

"Really?" Benny said, intrigued. "Why'd he leave?"

"Why do any of us leave? He couldn't deal with it. You know Mark… he's always had trouble with reality."

"What? Did his camera break or something and he needed a new way deal with life?"

I laughed. "Mark wouldn't let anything happen to his camera."

Benny smiled. "Yeah, how could I forget?" Benny's eyes narrowed a bit as he looked at me. "Maureen, are you all right?"

"Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, if Mark's gone, who are you staying with?"

Another drink. "I'm staying in the loft. Alone."

Benny just nodded. "You okay with that?"

I rolled my eyes. "I'm a grown woman, Benjamin. If I get scared of the dark, I'll just turn my night light on."

Benny laughed. "I forgot – you're not scared of the dark, the dark is scared of _you_."

I laughed, too. It was nice to laugh after so long. Odd that I was laughing with Benny, but nice none the less.

Benny glanced down at his watch. "I've gotta go," he said, actually sounding disappointed, "but we should meet up sometime."

I nodded. "Yeah, all right."

He smiled at me. "Don't lock yourself up in that loft by yourself, _Roger_."

I raised my glace to him. "Will do."

He left and I turned back to the bar tended, ordering another glace and feeling slightly better. It was nice to know I had at least one friend left in New York… even if it was Benny.


	3. The Blower's Daughter

Ch.3 - POV:** Roger**

**"No love, no glory. No hero in her sky."  
**- _The Blower's Daughter_, Damien Rice

I hated those people. They acted like they knew me, like they could actually _help_ me. Why wouldn't people just accept I was beyond help? I just wanted to disappear. Forever.

But here I was, _group therapy_, with some joke of a man named Kenny trying to get me to tell the group about Mimi. I was stupid and had let her name slip yesterday. The room was kind of set up like Life Support had been, but this was the furthest thing from Life Support I could think of.

"So, Roger," Kenny said, "are you not going to say anything again today?"

I leaned back in my plastic chair, arms folded over my chest. "Can't I just go back to bed?"

"No."

It figured.

"This is a welcoming environment, Roger," said a man sitting across the circle from me. I think his name was Jack. He was addicted to pain killers or something. Last week he had had some kind of break through and was now trying to help everyone else 'see the light' or something. "We won't judge. Tell us about Mimi. You can say anything here."

Kenny nodded along with him.

Did they know how stupid they sounded?

"Let it be, boys," I sighed.

"Was Mimi a family member?" Kenny asked.

I didn't answer. I needed him to just _drop_ it.

"Was Mimi a girlfriend? Your wife?"

Now he was just pissing me off…

"Was Mimi the one who gave-"

"_Stop_ saying her _name_!" I cried. I even surprised myself at how I reacted, but I didn't care. The mouths hung open around me and eyes widened as I threw my tantrum. I hardly noticed. "You don't know her and you don't _get_ to know her."

"I can see that you're very upset right know."

"Damn straight I'm _upset_, _Kenny_," I spat. "I shouldn't even _be_ here!"

"Roger, you were very sick and-"

I was on my feet, though I didn't remember standing up. "Don't sugar coat it, I'm not here because I was _sick_, I'm here because I was a _junkie_. I'm here because of the pretty red scars all over my arms! I'm sick, but that's not why I'm _here_. If I was here because I was sick I'd be dying and not _trying_ to die." For a moment I was alone in my thoughts and I forgot about the dozen or so people watching me. "…I'd be dead and not her."

I stopped myself realizing I was saying more then I intended. I tried to blink away the tears in my eyes.

_Did I just let myself say all_ _that? Damn it to hell._ I slumped back into my green plastic chair.

Kenny just looked up at me, calmly. "All right, Roger. You're right. You're here because you're an addict. Did you start using hoping you'd _die_?"

_Fuck it all._

"No," I hissed, "I hoped I'd die when I stopped taking my AZT. I thought maybe heroin would just speed up the process. Satisfied? Have I said enough for you now?"

A few people in the group had their heads lowered. Some just stared at me as I stood there, stupidly. "Is that what you wanted to hear?" I demanded.

"Who's Mimi?" Kenny insisted.

"_Don't say her name_!" I cried again. Burly men dressed in white and waiting by the doorway inched closer to me, but Kenny held up his hand for them to stop.

"You really wanna know who she was? She was _junkie_, she was a _stripper_, she shot up with filthy needles and _poisoned_ herself."

"Did she get you sick?"

"And I loved her!" I went on, ignoring him, tears freely falling now. "I _loved_ her and I knew that I shouldn't have, because… because I _knew_ this would happen! I knew she'd die, I knew it. But I never _learn_. I thought _I'd_ go! I was supposed to die! She came back…" I sobbed, helplessly. "She said she jumped over the moon… she came back."

* * *

_"...Mimi and I really hit it off when we met. I remember that night at the Life Café, after my protest, when we first all met her. It was like she had always been friends with us. From then on she was our family... We miss you, sweetheart." Maureen sniffled and lowered her head as she sat back down in the pew next to Joanne._

_Collins stood up, his coat still on. "She was just a kid," he began solemnly, "but she lived more then any of us. She taught us the lesson we really needed… to live for the moment. She lived like that and she got the most out of her life, even if it was too short." He shoved his hands in his pockets, looking over his shoulder at the casket behind him. "Turn around girlfriend," he whispered._

_Then it was my turn. I wanted Mark to come up with me, I was too shaky and upset to go alone. He stood off to the side as I approached the casket. I inhaled as best I could. I was light headed and nauseous. I hadn't eaten for two days and it had been a week since I'd taken my AZT. But I didn't care._

_"I should tell you." I murmured, openly weeping. "I should..."_

_Then everything got really hazy. Then I couldn't see anything at all. _

_Mark was kneeling over me when I opened my eyes._

_"Cold, cold..." I sputtered._

_"It's okay, Roger," he said, although his voice had never sounded more panicked. "A doctor's coming."_

_"No…no…" I put my hands up, trying to push Mark away from me. I wasn't thinking clearly, but I remembered enough to know I didn't want a doctor._

_Mark grabbed my hands and Joanne came over and kneeled beside me, too._

_"Roger..." Mark said, pulling up my sleeve and looking at my scared arms. "What's this...?"_

_Mark and Joanne exchanged a worried glance as I faded into unconsciousness at the front of the church again. _

_"What's that, Roger? I can't hear you."_

_"All the scars…never and maybies… _die_."_

* * *

I was back in my room, staring up at the white ceiling, my arms folded under my head, cursing myself. I only had a few more days of this place and I had just blown it. The only way I was going to get to go home was if I behaved and made them think I was normal. My breakdown that morning hadn't exactly helped my case. And all I wanted was to go back home… as miserable as I was, and knew I'd always be, I missed my friends.

A knock at the door. I sat up.

A pretty woman with glasses and her hair pulled neatly back stepped in. "Roger Davis? May I come in?"

"Sure," I muttered.

She pulled a chair up beside my bed, crossing her legs and placing her clipboard on her lap. "I hear you don't want to talk to Dr. Spivey."

"Who? Oh, _Kenny_. No, not really."

"Well then, will you talk to me?"

I sighed. "Do I have a choice?"

She gave me a little grin. "Not really."

"Then I guess I will."

"Excellent. My name is Dr. Burke. I've worked at the Santa Rosa Rehabilitation Centre of three years now."

"Thank you."

She raised an eyebrow. "For what?"

"For not pretending to be my friend. For not asking me to call you by you're first name and sharing your life story to make me more 'comfortable'."

"Well, Dr. Spivey's approach doesn't work for everyone, but it is effective. Just look at Jack."

I shrugged. "I don't need another friend."

"Why not? Everyone likes friends…"

"My friends are kind of cursed."

"I don't suppose you want to talk about them, do you?"

"Not really."

She sighed. "That's fine. Now, you're scheduled to leave next Wednesday. Dr. Spivey doesn't seem to think that's a good idea, especially considering what happened this morning."

I lowered my head. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be," she said, adjusting her glasses. "There are things you need too get off your chest. Now, I've talked to some of our supervisors and head doctors. They feel that, if you will talk to me and of we can make some serious progress in the next few days, you can eave on you're scheduled day."

"Really?"

"Really."

"Thank you!" I smiled. I was expecting to be imprisoned there for another month, at least.

"You won't be expected to attend any more group therapy sessions, either. Clearly that is not beneficial."

"_Clearly_," I couldn't help but snort.

"_But_, we do have some serious work to do. Are you willing to cooperate?"

"Yes."

She flipped to a page on her clipboard. "Good. Then I think we should start with Mimi."

* * *

_I hated being in the hospital. It was so sterile and white… Just the smell reminded me of sitting for hours on end in the chair beside Angel's bed. And that was the last thing I wanted to be reminded of._

_I knew I looked a mess, but I didn't care. I had been at the hospital for almost three days straight, but Mark had finally convinced me to go home and shower. I hadn't slept more then ten hours in the last week._

_Mimi was sick. Very sick. Our Christmas Eve miracle hadn't lasted as long as any of us had hoped. I walked down the hall back to her room. My guitar was still in there. She always asked me to sing for her. _

_"Listen to that boy's song..." she'd murmur to herself, coughing._

_I walked up to the door. Collins and Joanne were standing outside Mimi's room, talking quietly. "What's going on?" I asked them._

_Both looked exhausted, with puffy, red eyes._

_"Give them a minute," Collins muttered._

_"Give who a minute?"_

_Joanne shoved Collins' arm, angrily. "Shut up, dumb ass."_

_Confused, I rushed into her room. "Mimi...?"_

_Benny sat on the edge of her bed, her frail little hands in his. They both looked over at me, as if I were interrupting. _

_"What's going on?" I demanded._

_"Roger, we just..." Mimi coughed loudly, and Benny brushed her hair out of her eyes._

_I stormed over to him, pushing him away from her, violently. I was inexplicably enraged._

_"Roger..." she said, hoarsely from her bed._

_Benny held his arms up between us. "Relax, Roger. I just wanted to-"_

_"I don't care what _you_ want. What you doing here?"_

_"Well, I am paying for her to stay here..."_

_"Why can't you just leave us _alone_?"_

Joanne and Collins must have heard me shouting because they both came in.

_"Because _alone_ she'd probably already be dead," he hissed, quietly. "You ungrateful little-"_

_Joanne stepped between up, pushing Benny toward the door. "Come on," she said, "enough for now."_

_"No," I shouted, "bring him back here! You selfish-"_

_Collins stood behind me, a vice-like grip on my arms. "Cut it out, man! Not here."_

_I looked back at Mimi, skinny and ashen with IV lines crisscrossing above her head. She was sobbing._

_"Damn it," I muttered, running my hands through my hair. I just couldn't get this right._

_Joanne must have convinced Benny to leave because he stormed out of the door. Not thinking clearly, I followed him, pushing Collins away from me._

_Out of the corner of my eye I saw Joanne rush to Mimi's bedside. I knew it should have been me there, but I was too angry to think about anything else._

_"Benny!" I cried as he sped down the hallway away from me. "Benny, get back here!"_

_"Not now, Roger," he said, not even bothering to look back at me._

_He finally made it outside to the parking lot and headed toward his Range Rover._

_"Damn it, Benny!" I cried, finally running after him. I grabbed his collar and shook him as best I could, although it was difficult considering he was a bit bigger then me. He may have been bigger, but I was angrier. _

_He pushed me away from him. "Roger, cool it!"_

_"Why can't you just leave us be? She needs to feel better now and you're just here to confuse her! You just want to her to hero – you want to save her!"_

_He stepped toward me. "Yeah, I do. I do wanna save her! So sue me. But _you're_ the one who's confused, Roger. You think you're angry with me, but you're not! You're anger at yourself! You want to save her, but you _can't_. So, instead of dealing with it, you just resent _me_."_

_I swung at him and missed._

_"Go back to her, Roger. She loves you, you stupid fuck. I'll never know why, but she does. So, back to her. That's how you can help her. Being mad at-"_

_I swung again and this time I hit him square in the jaw._

_He spat blood and glared at me, his eyes on fire. "You're insane. You need_ help_." He got into his car and drove off. _

_And that was the last time I saw Benny._

* * *

Dr. Burke scribbled something onto her paper. "So, why did you punch him?"

I shrugged. "He was just trying to redeem himself. He didn't love her like I loved her. But he was _acting_ like he did."

"Maybe he did love her, even if it wasn't the way you did. Maybe he was just helping his friend. I mean, without him Mimi would have been a lost worse off, right?"

"Yeah. I know it was stupid… I was just angry, you know?"

"Of course. I do think you should set things right with him, though. Even if he was a bit of a jerk before." She flashed me a quick smile that I ignored.

"Yeah."

"All right, great job, Roger. You up to talking a bit more?"

"About what?"

"Well, we haven't even started talking about Mark."

Oh, boy.


	4. Chasing Cars

Ch. 4 - POV: **Mark**

**"If I lay here, if I just lay here, would you lay with me and just forget the world?"  
**- _Chasing Cars_, Snow Patrol

My eyes fluttered open and it took me a second to remember where I was. The walls were light pink with tiny flowers all over them, a wide window letting into sunlight, white curtains hanging limply beside it. I was in a bed, tangled up in white sheets. A head lay comfortably on my chest, a mass of brown hair surrounding it.

Then I remembered.

"Good morning, Lily."

Lily yawned, pulling herself closer to me. "No, it's not morning yet," she murmured, her eyes still closed. "We still have a few hours."

I smiled, running my fingers through her long hair. "Yeah," I lied. "We still have a few hours."

She smiled and kissed my chest. "Excellent." Finally, she opened her eyes and kissed my cheek. "Sleep well?"

"Not a wink," I said, kissing her back.

She rolled away from me, stretching out, pulling the comforter up over her chest. "What time is it?"

I rolled over on to my side to check the clock on her bedside table. A picture of a pretty woman sat beside it. I hadn't noticed it before. "Who's this?" I asked.

She placed her head on my shoulder, looking at the picture, too. "That's my sister, Shannon."

"She live in Chicago, too?"

Lily swallowed. "She died last year."

"Oh, Lily, I'm so sorry."

She forced a smile for me. "Don't be. We've all got a sob-story, right?"

I smiled back at her. "Right."

She held out her hand. "This was her ring. She gave it to me just before she died. She had cancer," she explained. I could tell she was making sure her voice didn't crack.

I pulled her into a little closer to me, seeing how much it hurt her to talk about this. "You two must have been really close."

She nodded. "We were. Our mom died when I was twelve and she was fourteen. She left us a some money and we lived on that. Well, I'm _still_ living on it. Our father…" she shook her head, looking up me. "Our father was a drunk. A dead beat. We were all we had, you know? She became my guardian as soon as she turned eighteen. Then, when she was twenty two she got sick. She died when she was only twenty three."

I looked over at her. She played silently with the ring on her finger for a while. It was then I decided I was going to do it.

I was completely entranced by everything she did or said. She amazed me. We'd been seeing each other for the last three weeks, spending nearly every minute together, which was easy considering both of us didn't have jobs. We hadn't known each other long, but it didn't matter. We had become the centre point of each other's lives.

"What time is it?" she asked again.

I forced myself to look away from her and back to the clock. "Almost ten."

"Damn it," she muttered, sitting up and pulling on her pants.

"Where are you going? It's still night time, remember?"

She smiled at me over her shoulder. "Sorry, Mark. As soon as I get back we can go back to bed. Promise."

"Where are you going?"

She turned away from me as she pulled back her hair and slipped on her shirt. "I have a doctor's appointment."

"Everything okay?" I asked, propping myself up on my elbows.

She smiled. "Everything's perfect. I just like to make sure I'm healthy."

I nodded. That made sense.

She stood up and grabbed her keys. "Don't go anywhere," she smiled, winking at me. "I'll be right back."

"Lily, wait."

"What?"

I sighed, trying to ready myself. I had been thinking about this for a while, but actually coming out and saying it was terrifying.

"Come back to New York with me."

"…what?"

I sat up. "Really. I'm leaving in a few days. Come with me."

"…You'd want me to _move in_ with you?"

"I want you wherever I am." It was a cheesy answer, I knew, but it was the truth.

Her face softened. "Of course I'll go with you, Mark."

I laughed, elated. For the first time in a very long time things seemed like they were going right for me. "That's great! I hope you don't mind roommates…"

She walked back over to me and gave me a quick kiss. "As long as you're one of them," she smiled. Then she stood back up and put on her sunglasses.

She left and I stood up, making my way into the bathroom. I opened her medicine cabinet, looking for toothpaste. Little orange pill bottles lined the shelves. I looked at each of them. Most of them were pain killers, which made sense. Lily had something about an accident as few months earlier, something about her back. She hadn't really explained and I hadn't really asked.

I knew something was wrong with all of these trips to the doctor, but I didn't care. I'd take care of her. _Love heals_, I told myself. I stopped short. Love? Was I in _love_? Maybe I was… I smiled to myself. No, I most definitely was.

I walked back into the bedroom, searching for my pants. I smiled over at the picture of Shannon. "I promise I'll take good care of her," I whispered.


	5. Mobile

Ch. 5 - POV**: Maureen**

**"Everything's changing when I turn around, all out of my control, I'm a mobile."  
**- _Mobile_, Avril Lavigne

Mark was back.

The asshole.

Apparently he _had_ been in Chicago all that time.

And he brought a friend back with him.

_Perfect_.

"Maureen," he said, absolutely beaming, "this is Lily."

"Hi," the girl said, a little awkwardly.

I put my hands on my hips. "She's staying with us?" I asked, eyeing the bags she had with her. I didn't care how rude I must have sounded.

Mark nodded. "Yeah."

I rolled my eyes. "You've _got_ to be kidding me, Mark."

"Excuse me?" he said, sounding genuinely confused.

I looked over at the girl, still standing in the doorway. "Excuse us for a second," I said as I pulled Mark over toward the kitchen. "Mark," I hissed through clenched teeth, hoping we were out of earshot, "what were you thinking? Do you know how irresponsible this is?"

"You're one to talk about being _irresponsible_," he hissed.

I chose to ignore him. He was right, after all. "Roger's coming home soon! What's he gunna think when he sees some random girl in his house? Do you even _know_ her?"

"She not a 'random girl'. Her name is _Lily_," he said, "and of course I _know_ her." He looked back over to her as she dropped her bags and looked around the loft. "And, besides, I think it would be good for Roger. Someone new to focus on, you know? Someone to take his mind off things."

"Roger isn't exactly the kind of guy who's 'mind gets taken off of things' very easily," I pointed out. I decided not to remind him of the weeks Roger spent in the loft after April died. But I had a feeling he was thinking the same thing.

"Well," Mark said, finally, "I'm sure Lily will help. Change can't hurt. Right now, nothing can. Besides," he said, looking back over at her, "I really like her." With that he left to go help her unpack.

_Would have been nice had I had a little warning._

I couldn't understand it. How could Mark go away for just a few weeks and be back with a girl he couldn't take his eyes off of for more then a few seconds? The One and Only Mr. Lonely? With a _girl_? It was weird.

Maybe he wasn't just talking about Roger when he said change couldn't hurt. Maybe he just needed a distraction. It made sense.

But the way he looked at her made it seem like she was more then just a distraction.

I plopped down on the couch as Lily unpacked her stuff in Mark's room. I was frustrated. I needed an outlet. Or at least someone to talk to.

_I wonder what Benny's doing right now._

Now it felt like even Mark wasn't there for me. He was head over heals for this kid from Chicogo in a purple shirt. Everyone had moved on to their new lives.

Except me. I was still here. Nowhere.

* * *

The girl came and stood next to me.

_What's her name again? Damnit, I can't remember._

I was smoking out on the balcony. It was cold out, but the loft was making me feel claustrophobic.

"Hey," she said softly, leaning against the railing and rubbing her arms to keep warm.

"Hey." I was in no mood to talk. All I could think of was Roger. He was coming home in just a few days with only Mark and I to take care of him. Just one of the many things that was scaring me lately.

"So, um, this is pretty strange, huh?"

I took another puff. I don't even like smoking, but it's soothing. At least I keep telling myself it was. "My _life_ has been pretty strange lately."

She nodded. "Yeah, Mark's told me a lot about what happened. I'm really sorry."

I looked down onto the alley. "You don't need to pretend you understand, Miss Chicago. It's not your fault I'm so miserable." I forced a smile that, even to me, felt pretty weak.

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "I know I don't understand completely… but I know what it's like to loose someone, too. I know what it's like to feel helpless."

_What, you move in with me and all of the sudden I supposed to pour my heart out? Gimmie a break._

I gave her a once over. Gray sweater over a light purple shirt, dark jeans and her hair pulled neatly back. She looked like she just stepped out of suburbia and through the looking glass. But this wasn't exactly Wonderland. "Sure."

"Look, I know this is weird-"

"Fuckin' weird."

"- but I thought that maybe I…"

I turned to her, interrupting. "You seem very nice, Chicago, and I am just over the moon that Mark's found a girl, but I really just need to be by myself a while." I hoped I didn't sound too rude, but I honestly just didn't have the energy to try to be nice.

She lowered her head. "Okay… Just trying to help." She headed back into the loft as I squished my cigarette under my boot heel.

I sighed, looking over the railing into the scummy ally again. It was dark except for a few scattered trashcan fires. My eyes wandered back over to the building, down to the balcony below. Where she used to live.

I put my head in my hands and tried to wish myself out of New York.


	6. Welcome Home

Ch. 6 - POV: **Roger**

**"Yes, I'll come get you and I will bring you home."  
**- _Welcome Home_, Tegan and Sara

The cab ride from the Santa Rosa Rehab back to the loft was the longest I'd ever taken. I didn't really mind… I was looking forward to going back home, but I knew the first few days would be… _awkward_. Mark and Maureen would be walking on eggshells around me, watching what they said and what they did. I wasn't exactly looking forward to that.

I leaned my head against the window, guitar case resting on my lap and watched the city go by. It was nice to finally be back in the city that was so familiar to me, seeing the things I recognized and had grown attached to. It was comforting.

I got out of the cab a few blocks from the loft. I wanted to walk for a while. With my suitcase, guitar, and wrinkled clothes from the trip I must have looked like a homeless man as I slowly wandered to my building. I just wanted to enjoy the last few moments I had to myself. I knew Maureen and Mark wouldn't let me be once I was finally home.

A little smile crossed my lips. Maureen and Mark. I'd missed them more then I'd realized.

I missed the others, too. Joanne up in Detroit, Collins… wherever he was, and Angel. I missed her a lot.

And Mimi.

Finally I reached my building and made my way up the stairs. I stood at the door for a minute and thought about how I'd greet my friends. It wasn't something I'd ever thought about before, but now that I actually had to do it, it seemed like the most difficult thing in the world.

What was I supposed to say? "Hey guys, guess what? I'm clean again! So, what's for dinner?" I shook my head. It was no use trying to figure it out.

Mustering all my courage, I knocked on the door.

A clatter inside and rushed footsteps.

I swallowed, hard, shifting my weight from my left foot to my right foot.

And I waited.

Maureen opened the door.

"_Roger_!"

She threw her arms around me, and I couldn't help but smile as she screamed into my ear. "I _missed_ you!"

"I missed you, too."

"Here," she said, smiling brightly, "give me all your bags. I'll put them away."

"Thanks, Mo."

She kissed my cheek before bouncing off with my things.

_How could I have thought it would be hard to see them again?_

Mark walked up to me, much more subdued then Maureen had been. His blue eyes sparkled behind his glasses. I couldn't tell if it was just a reflection from the light or if he had tears in his eyes.

My heart jumped into my throat. It seemed like ages since I'd seen him last.

"Hey, man," I said, quietly.

"Hey."

I stood there awkwardly for a moment, not sure of what to say next. I had never been very good at hellos. Or goodbyes for that matter…

Mark stepped up and hugged me, hard. I choked back tears I hadn't expected. I had missed him _so much. _

"Don't you fucking scare me again," he whispered, fiercely. "Don't you leave again."

I inhaled, shakily, still holding him. Stupid Mark. He always knew how to make me cry. "I won't. I won't."

Finally, he let go of me, just as Maureen stepped back into the room. "Has he met her yet?"

"Who?" I asked, stupidly.

Mark stepped to the side so I could see into the loft. A girl with long brown hair in a loose braid stood by the table as she fiddled with a ring on her finger. I was surprised I hadn't noticed her before.

"Uh, Rog… this is Lily."

I gave the girl a little nod. "Hey."

She walked up to me a little hesitantly and held out her hand. "Nice to meet you."

I shook her hand, looking over at Maureen, puzzled. She just shrugged and rolled her eyes, clearly disapproving of Lily being here.

"Nice to meet you, too," I murmured.

Mark slung his arm over my shoulder, a goofy grin on his face. "Hungry?"

I smiled at him. "Starved."

* * *

The four of us sat together in the living room, eating pasta.

"So, you were in _Chicago_?" I asked Mark as we caught up.

"Yeah. Just for a month or so. I just wanted to get out of the city for a bit, you know?"

"Yeah," Maureen spat, sitting with her legs curled up on the chair. "And he left me _all alone_ here."

"I told you to come with me," Mark said with a shrug.

"And that's where you met…"

"Lily," the girl said. I felt stupid that she had to tell me her name again, but I _had_ just met her. Besides, I hadn't heard Maureen say her name all night. I was pretty sure she'd forgotten it, too.

"Yeah," Mark went on. He smiled at her and shrugged. "We just hit it off."

I smiled, too. Even though it was weird having a stranger in my house, it was nice to see Mark so happy. After all he had been through in the past few months, I knew he deserved it.

"I hope you don't mind me being here. I don't mean to intrude or anything," she said, setting her plate down on the table in front of her. "I thought about it and I could stay in a hotel or something…"

I shook my head. "Nah, it's cool. We're used to getting new people from time to time," I smiled.

"Remember when you brought Mark here?" Maureen laughed.

"Oh, do I ever."

"Let's _not_ tell that story…" Mark moaned.

Lily leaned forward, seeming to finally feel she didn't need to be so formal and reserved. "No, tell it!"

Maureen threw her head back dramatically as she began. "_Well_, me and Roger and Benny and Collins were living here at the time – you know who they are, right?"

Lily nodded.

"So, we were all getting along just fine, and then Roger comes home one night with - " she pointed over at Mark " – and he was soaking wet because it was raining that night, holding onto his camera for dear life."

"No I wasn't…"

"Yes you _were_! You were terrified of us," Maureen laughed. I threw a pillow behind my back, letting myself get comfortable. For the first time in a long time I almost felt happy again as I sat there with my friends and we pretended like nothing had changed.

But that was just it. We were _pretending_.

I shook head and forced myself to listen to the story I'd heard a million times before.

"Collins was stoned out of his mind and me and Benny had been drinking all night…"

I heard Lily laugh. And easy laugh.

"…and he just stood there until Roger practically dragged him over to the couch. So, Collins hands him a cigarette, and he's clearly never smoked before…"

I tuned Maureen out for a while, absently staring out the window. It was weird being back. Nice… but weird. After coming back from Santa Rosa, I guess I thought things would be different – that I would have changed or something. But I hadn't. I was still just me. I was still just as depressed as I always was. I knew that after the joy of seeing my friends again wore off I'd be just as miserable was I was before. I also knew I probably wouldn't be leaving the loft of a long time.

But what else was new?

There really wasn't a point. I was right the first time. The loft was a miserable little shit hole, but it was safe. I could control the things in it and what happened to me. I could wallow in my pain and self-loathing as much as I pleased. Outside was different. Outside I would just get hurt again. And people couldn't look at me and tell me I was crazy this time – that I needed to go out for my own good. Because look what happened. I was right.

I thought back to just before I left for rehab. What had Mark said? "At least you tangoed at all." Yeah, that was it… whatever the fuck that meant. But I got the jist. I'm pretty sure he meant "it's better to have loved and lost then to have never loved at all." Well, he can say that because he's only loved Maureen. He didn't _loose_ her. When he actually _looses_ someone he loved, he can come talk to me about tangoing.

"Rog… you okay?"

I blinked and came out of my thoughts. My face must have given away exactly what I was thinking, because the story had stopped and everyone was looking at me.

_Ugh, that's the way Kenny used to look at me._

"I'm fine, guys. Just tired."

Mark nodded. "Me, too. It's getting late, you guys wanna turn in?"

Maureen shook her head. "No, I actually gotta meet someone tonight."

"Who?"

She stood up and shrugged her white, faux-leather coat on. "Oh, uh… just someone I met at the Clit Club a while ago… we, uh, ran into each other the other day and made plans."

"Have fun, you party animal," Mark smiled.

Maureen just shook her head. "Hardly," she mumbled as she left.

Lily yawned. "I'm going to bed. You guys should sit for a bit and catch up." She smiled at us as she brought her plate into the kitchen.

I smiled back at her. She may not have been what I was used to, but she seemed nice and was smart enough to know when she was about to become a third wheel.

"Good night," I said.

She kissed Mark on the cheek and mumbled some more good-nights.

After she'd left, I turned to Mark. "She's cute."

Mark laughed. "Yeah… she's great."

"I'm glad you found her."

He nodded. "Me, too." He sighed, leaning forward. "So… you wanna talk about it?"

"About _what_?" I groaned. I was so sick of _talking_ about things.

"Rog, you were gone for months! What happened? How are you? Fill me in here."

I rubbed my eyes. "There's nothing to say. I went, I talked, I came back. The end."

Mark hung his head. I knew he was hoping I'd open up – pour my heart out or something – but I just didn't have it in me. Not just then. My eyes kept wandering back over to that table where she... But I didn't want to think about that. He must have seen my face change, because he looked over at me like he might start balling if I wasn'y all right. Not that Mark ever really cried...

I decided to try to make him feel better. I collapsed my hand on his shoulder. "Things can go back to normal now, Mark. Don't worry."

"I wanted things to be _better_ then normal," he muttered, looking up at me through his glasses. "You deserve for things to get better then normal."

"I don't deserve much, man."

Mark sighed. "I'm just glad you're home."

"Me, too."

A smile crept over Mark's face. "Collins is coming home over Spring Beak."

"Great," I said, forcing myself to smile back. "It'll be nice getting as much of the gang back together as we can."

A painful silence. I wished I hadn't said anything.

"Hey," I said, changing the subject, "where'd Maureen say she was going?"

Mark shrugged. "Remember? She said she was 'going out with a friend'."

I laughed. I was pretty sure I knew what that meant. "Some things never change."

Mark laughed, too, standing up. "I guess not. I think I'll go to bed."

"I'll stay up for a bit."

"You gunna be okay?"

"If I hear any monsters, I promise to wake you up."

Mark laughed and I stood up, too, hugging him again. "I'm glad your back," he said. Then he left and went to bed while I sat on the sofa alone, staring out the window.

So, the stage was set. This was how my life would be for the foreseeable future… Maureen out doing Maureen-things, Mark watching my every move, and his new girlfriend trying to get to know me. Like I had expected, I wasn't exactly _looking forward_ to these things, but they were all better then anything at Santa Rosa. And at least Collins would be home soon.

I put my head in my hands and sighed. Everything should have been perfect… but I felt like my world was falling apart around me.

And she wasn't there to hold it together for me.

* * *

I crack open a beer. I know I shouldn't drink, but I don't care. I need to diloute myself somehow.

I've been up half the night, thinking too much, playing my guitar, going crazy. I see Mimi everywhere. I stare into space for hours, but it doesn't feel that long.

I drink my beer. Then I drink another. And another.

I hear Maureen walking up the stairs. I glance over at the clock. It's late. Really late. Mark went to bed hours ago. I slink off into bed as she walks in and try to make it look like I'm sleeping. But she peaks her head in anyways.

"I saw you," Maureen whispers.

"So?"

"Right from one vice to the next the, eh?"

I roll over onto my back. "I can have a beer, Maureen. I'm a grown man."

"Whatever," she says. "Goodnight."

* * *

I close my eyes and drift off.

And there she is. Sitting up on the table. And I think she's singing. Very softly.

"_I'm illin'. I've gotta get my sickness off_."

She's got the moonlight in her hair again.

I walk closer to her, but she's fading away.

I run. I'm miles away from her, but we're in the same room.

I run forever, as fast as I can. But I can hardly move.

When I finally get there she's almost gone.

But then she's there again. Suddenly. Too suddenly. She scares me. She's so real.

She looks like she did when she was in the hospital. No moonlight, bags under her eyes, death creeping up on her.

Her lips are moving, but I can't hear anything.

"Mimi." My voice sounds echo-y and far away. "Mimi."

She's whispering. "Cold, cold. Over the moon. All the way over."

"I know you, you're - you're shivering."

And she is. Violently. She's convolsing.

I reach out to touch her.

She pulls away.

She's a ghost.

"_Not happy_," she screams.

She's so loud I wake up.

My heart beats out of my chest.

"It was just a dream," I mutter to myself. But I don't try to get to sleep again. It's the thrid time I've had that dream.

**End of Part One: In the End Everyone Ends up Alone. Loosing Her, the Only One Who's Ever Known Who I am, Who I'm Not and Who I Wanna Be. No Way to Know how Long She Will Next to You.  
**- _You Found Me_, The Fray

* * *

**Author's Notes:**

Thanks so much for the reviews, guy! Sorry it's taking me forever to update, I'll try to make them quicker. I really hoped you liked Part One; please let me know what you guys think! :)  
I'd also really like to know what you guys think of "Lily". It's always a little scary writing OCs, so I'd love any feedback or suggestions you guys have.  
Also, as you'ce probably figured out, the chapters are named after the song that I use at the beginning. I figured that since _Rent_ is a musical, I may as well incorperate music into it as best I can. If there are any songs you think would fit, just lemmie know!

Here's what I want you guys to think about while I'm writing the next chapter:  
- Where was Maureen?  
- What happened to Lily when she hurt her back?  
- Why is Mimi 'not happy'? Is Roger just insane?  
- The anniversery of Shannon's (Lily sister's) is coming up.  
- Are we ever going to see Joanne or Collins?  
- How will Roger handle being home again?"  
- Will Maureen ever be "normal"?  
- Lastly, is it possible the last quote might refer to someone _other_ then Roger?

Anyways, like I said, I'd love to hear what you guys thinks! Thanks a gazillion :)


	7. Don't Speak Liar

**Part Two: All The Lonely People, Where Do They All Come From? All The Lonely People, Where Do They All Belong?  
**- _Elenor Rigby_, The Beatles

Ch. 7 - POV: **Maureen.**

**"So when I come back I won't say a word. I know I've said this before. Don't speak liar."  
**- _Don't Speak Liar_, We the Kings

I tugged on my pants as fast as I could. All I wanted was to get out of that apartment and pretend like I hadn't just done what I knew I'd done a dozen times before. Just the thought of it made me sick to my stomach… and yet for some reason I found myself making the same mistake over and over again.

Benny sat up in bed, still beneath the comforter. "What, we don't even get to cuddle?" He was trying to be funny.

"Shut up," I hissed, hooking my bra.

He sighed. "Don't get mad at me, Maureen."

I pulled my hair back and tied it into a knot before standing up and pulling on my shirt. All I wanted to do was curl up in the loft and never come out again. I was starting to see why self imposed house arrest seemed so good to Roger.

"I'm not _mad_," I snapped, even though I knew I was.

"Yes you are," he insisted. "But you're not mad at _me_."

I turned to look at him. "Then who _am_ I mad at?"

He just shrugged. "Yourself."

I rolled my eyes. "You're so full of shit."

Benny laid back down. "Whatever. Don't believe me. But don't pretend like I won't see you next week."

I grabbed my bag and left without saying anything, hoping I could sneak into the loft again without anyone noticing.

* * *

"_I'm not going to cry."_

"_Why not?" he asked. "You can cry if your sad."_

"_I'm not sad."_

_Benny laughed. "Sure you're not."_

"_Don't act like you know me, Benny," I muttered. I sat on a comfy chair in his new apartment with a drink in front of me. He sat on the sofa across the room. It was pouring rain and my rain was still damp although I'd been inside for almost forty-five minutes._

_I hadn't meant to go to Benny's that night, but I'd run into him again and he'd invited me over. It'd been so long since we'd really spoken to each other, I couldn't say no. Plus… I had wanted someone to talk to other then Mark, who's time was completely up with Lily and Roger, who had been home for a few days now._

"_I know you," Benny went on. _

_I just shook my head, taking another drink._

"_You're girlfriend's gone, you're friends are sick and dying, and no one's paying attention to you anymore. Anyone would be sad if that was happening to them."_

_I shot him an angry look. But he was right. And he knew it._

* * *

I tried in vain to light as cigarette as I walked home in the dark. It was still cold and the wind kept blowing out my lighter. Eventually, I just gave up.

I knew people were starting to wonder where I was disappearing to so often, but so far there hadn't been too many questions. I felt horrible and weighed down with guilt – like I always did on these walks home – for keeping this secret from the only friends I had left. But I knew no one would understand why I was sleeping with Benny. Hell, I didn't even really understand it. I just knew I wanted to keep doing it.

The world was a little less lonely when I was with him.

And for a few hours some just focused on me.

So I made up my mind to just keep lying. I knew I could keep it up - I was an excellent liar.

I rubbed my eyes and then pulled my coat closer to me. I knew the real reason I kept going to see Benny – he was normal. He was stable. He was everything I craved right now. He was _safe_.

But I doubted if Mark or Roger would be able to understand that.

So I decided to just keep my mouth shut.

* * *

_I did start crying that night._

_Because he was right about everything he had said._

_And he comforted me. _

_I remembered he smelt like whiskey and cheap cologne. _

_He wrapped his arm around me and I cried into his shoulder for a while. He didn't seem to mind._

_And then I kissed him. And he kissed me back._

_Lonely people, I just kept thinking to myself. We were just broken, lonely people._

* * *

I opened the door to the loft as quietly as I could. Roger was passed out on the sofa again, empty beer bottles scattered on the floor and table. I sighed. I had sympathy for Roger, really I did, I just wished he had a little more will power.

But that was pretty hypocritical.

I realized that we all deal with the shitty cards we were dealt in different ways. I slipped into my room and quickly changed into some pajama.

I could hear Roger in the living room, murmuring in his sleep. It was nothing new. He had been having nightmares ever since he'd gotten home.

And I cried again.


	8. Broadway

* * *

Ch. 8 - POV: **Lily**

**"Broadway's dark tonight; a little bit weaker then you used to be."  
**- _Broadway_, Goo Goo Dolls

_Three weeks_, I kept telling myself_. Three weeks and two days_. I felt like I might lapse into some kind of panic attack as my heart beat faster and I felt my chest tighten. _Three weeks and two days and nine hours_.

I played with my ring and tried to forget everything I felt. I tried not to be sad, angry, scared, in love. I tried to be dead.

_Three weeks, two days, nine hours, thirty seven minutes_.

* * *

Mark was very excited. Everyone was, really – even Roger, although sometimes it was hard to tell with him. They were all smiling little more, opening windows, and walking around with a little more bounce in their step. I even caught Maureen humming.

Collins called last week. He was coming home for spring break.

I was excited to meet him, too. I heard enough to know that meeting Collins would be, to say the least, very interesting.

But I had other things on my mind, too. Things that completely pushed meeting Collins out of my mind, until someone reminded me he was coming.

Like I had always said, everyone has their sob stories: Roger's depressed, drinking and having nightmares every time he tries to close his eyes. Maureen is subdued, not nearly the woman she once was, I am told, and she sneaks off at night, defensive and dismissive if she's ever asked about it. Collins is apparently still reeling from the deaths of so many of his friends – especially the infamous Angel, perfection personified, then snatched away. And Mark… well, Mark is the only one left to pick up the pieces of his shattered friends; his broken community.

That's why I just kept my mouth shut.

But I already had the shakes. It's only a matter of time before I couldn't take it anymore – before they all figured it out.

* * *

I sat on the sofa, reading a book I'd just borrowed from the library. I actually just used "going to the library" as a cover story, lying about what I was really doing. It hurt me to lie to them – especially to Mark – but I knew it would hurt them more it they knew where I had actually gone.

I went to the library before coming back to the loft and took out the first book I found, lying on a cart next to the shelves. _Watership Down_. It actually wasn't that bad. It was about bunnies.

Mark sat down beside me. "Hey," he smiled, putting his arm around me. It was nice to see someone smile in that loft, and a little unusual lately. But I knew it was the "Collins is coming home" feeling that was still in the air. "How's your book?" he asked.

I forced a little smile. "Good," I said, simply.

"You okay?"

"Yeah… why? Do I not look okay?"

Mark shrugged. "You've just been really quiet. And you're –" he stopped mid-sentence. "You're shivering," he said suddenly, concerned.

I pulled away from him a little, closing my book. "I'm just cold. I'm fine."

"Lily, you're sweating… how can you be cold?"

I swallowed, hard. "I have a fever."

He sat there for a moment and I waited for what seemed like an eternity to see if he believed me. For the first time in a long time I prayed; prayed he would buy my bullshit story.

"Why didn't you tell me you were sick?" He stood up and poured me a glass of water.

I smile, relieved, a million pounds lifting off my shoulders. "Oh… I didn't want to worry you. You have enough to think about," I added.

Mark nodded as he handed me the glass and sat back down next to me. "I guess. But things'll get better once Collins gets here." He smiled, brightly. "You'll see. It'll be almost like old times."

I nodded, too, even though I knew it wouldn't be anything like the movies Mark had shown me of his friends long before I ever knew them. I knew that they were all hoping to feel like it was "old times" when Collins got back. And I knew it wouldn't.

Looking around the loft I didn't know if they'd ever be that happy again.

Mark stood up. "I'll let you read your book, then." He turned and took a few steps, before turning back to me. "You know… you still could have told you weren't feeling well. You can tell me anything."

I just nodded.

After I was sure he was gone I put my head in my hands and cried, tears falling onto the book and ruining the cover.

* * *

_One week. One week and two days. One week and two days and three hours._

I took the little orange bottle out of my purse and popped open the cap. Only five left. I should save them, I should ration them. I didn't know when I'd be getting more.

_One week. _

I put two in my mouth and swallowed, my hands shaking. I didn't need water anymore. I sat down in the bathtub, making sure the door is locked, and wait until I start to feel better – to feel nothing.

My sight slowly faded out and I felt fuzzy and a loose, as an empty smile took over my lips.

* * *

Someone dragged the door of the loft open and waltzed in, a brown paper bag under his arm. I stepped out of Mark's room to see what all the noise is about, tying my hair quickly into an elastic as I did.

Maureen jumped on the man I didn't recognize. She pulled her arms tight around his neck and wrapped her legs around his middle so she was completely thrown onto him, almost knocking him over. I couldn't help but laugh.

So _this_ must be Collins.

"Hey Mo," he laughed as she kissed his cheek and jumped down, smiling from ear to ear.

"Hey yourself," she said, squeezing his hand.

Collins put down his bag and pulled Mark into a hug. I couldn't help but smile again; they must have really missed each other. Mark laughed and patted Collins hard on the back.

I looked around for Roger, realizing that he was missing out on this all-to adorable reunion, and laughed. He had Mark's camera and was filming everything. I felt a little lighter despite everything that weighed on my mind and I realized then why it was: Roger was smiling, too.

"Oh, hi!" Collins said after he noticed Roger.

"'Oh hi' after seven months?"

Collins laughed at some joke I didn't get and pulled the camera away from Roger. Pointing it awkwardly at them to make sure everything was on tape, Collins gave Roger a kiss on the cheek.

"Collins," Mark said after he and Roger had hugged (and after Maureen managed to squeeze in the middle of them and declare herself the meat in a Co-Mo-Ro sandwich), "this is Lily."

I could feel my throat close up. Up until then I had been a spectator and I was perfectly willing to remain a spectator. When I had met Maureen and when I had met Roger, they were slightly more formal introductions – now I felt like I was the kid of the uncle's new girlfriend that was invited to a family reunion just to be polite. But in reality, no one wanted me there.

Collins walked up to me and smiled warmly. "Hey, Lily."

I was a little taken back that he wasn't surprised to see a stranger with his friends – but I guessed him must have been used to it.

I hoped my voice wouldn't crack as everyone watched me, waiting for me to somehow make myself a part of this moment. "Uh… _hi_."

"Hey Lily," Collins said, pulling something out of the bag he'd brought with him.

"Yeah?"

"You like vodka?"

I smiled. "Of course I do."

He through his arm over my shoulders now. "I'm think I'm gunna like you, kid."


	9. Yesterday

Ch. 9 - POV: **COllins**

**"I said, "something wrong?" Now I long for yesterday."  
**- _Yesterday_, The Beatles

It was good to be home. Boston was nice, but nothing compared to New York.

Things had changed a lot since I'd left, but I was expecting that. What I was expecting was how down everyone was. The mood in the loft just wasn't what it used to be. What this the same place Angel danced for us? The same place Mimi was miraculously revived? The same place we dreamed of Santa Fe? Got drunk? Stayed up all night? It didn't feel like it.

Lily was interesting. I liked her – she was really smart and, although she didn't say much, she was pretty funny when she did. I was glad Mark had found her. He deserved someone good. And it was clear he was completely taken with her. She, on the other hand, seemed very distracted.

The more I got to know her, the less I got to know her, somehow. When I first showed up she smiled politely and made small talk, but the longer I stayed at the loft, the more introverted her became, like she couldn't keep pretending to care what was happening to me or anyone else.

"Mark," I said a few days later, "what's up with your girl?"

"Huh?" he muttered stupidly as he fiddled with something on his camera.

"You're girl: little miss Chicago. She all right?"

Mark finally looked up and faced me. "Yeah. I think so. Why?"

"Well, for starters she don't talk much anymore. And she just sits inside and reads all day – like she's our new Roger or something."

Mark smiled at that.

"Don't tell me you haven't noticed."

Mark sighed, setting his camera down. "Lily's sister died about a year ago. In two day's it's the anniversary of her death… she's been pretty down and I'm guessing that's why. They were really close."

I nodded. I could understand that. But something still didn't feel right. "So, that's it?"

Mark shrugged, trying to brush this off. I knew that he was worried there was something more to this – something too 'real' for him, which meant something to be avoided. "I don't know… sometimes her back hurts her. Maybe that's why she really isn't doing much."

"What's wrong with her back?"

"She fell a couple of months ago," he explained. "Down some stairs, I think she said. Messed it up pretty bad, but she ended up all right. Just hurts her sometimes."

"Oh," mumbled, grabbing a beer and sitting on the couch. "Guess that explains it, then."

But I didn't believe myself.

* * *

"Where were you last night, huh?" I said with a mischievous grin.

Maureen just shrugged as she poured herself a cup of coffee. "Out."

"Out where?"

She rolled her eyes. "Does it _matter_, Collins?"

"Whoa, sorry…" I grumbled, a little taken back that she had snapped at me.

She pressed her hand to her forehead. "No, I'm sorry. Never mind. Let's just move on."

"Okay…"

Maureen sighed, staring into her mug.

"You all right, Mo?"

She nodded, absently.

_What the hell is wrong with everyone?_ I thought to myself. _This loft is mother fucking Depression-ville._

"Collins?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think I should get a job?"

I wouldn't have been more surprised is she's pulled out a baseball bat and cracked me over the head with it. "_Excuse me_?"

"You know… a job. A regular one. Where you make money."

"Maureen… are you high?"

She finally gave in and smiled. "No. I'm being serious. Mark's commission is still good and Lily's helping out… but Roger's meds and the rent are really expensive. I should, you know… do my part."

"I can help, to, you know."

"I know, I know…"

"And you know I'd never let you guys get into any trouble money-wise, right? We _could_ always go back to that ATM," I said with a little laugh.

"Did you nearly get arrested for that?" Maureen said, with a smile.

"_Nearly_."

She sighed. "Well, thanks Collins. But… maybe I should get on anyway, you know? Start to have some kind of normal life."

"Maureen, I don't ever wanna hear those words out your mouth again."

She laughed. "Right, I forgot: anarchy, revolution…"

"Exactly."

"Collins?"

"Mmhmm?"

"Am I bad person?"

I furrowed my brow. What was going on? This was _not_ the Maureen I'd always known. "Of course not."

We sat in silence for a while as I absent mindedly skimmed the Village Voice. She stared down at the coffee she hadn't touched. "I'm sleeping with Benny."

I felt as if I'd just run face-first into a brick wall. I had no idea what to say. Tears gathered in her eyes and I just stood there, stupidly, trying to somehow make sense of what she'd just said.

"No you're not," I finally said. I couldn't process this, it couldn't be true.

She set down her mug, covering her face with her hands.

_Oh shit, she's telling the truth._

I pulled her into a hug, hoping she wouldn't be able to tell I was almost shaking. Not because of what she had just told me, but because Maureen – strong, unshakeable Maureen – was _crying_. What was I supposed to do?

"It's okay…" I said, softly. "It's okay."

"I-I-I…"

"You don't have to feel bad. I understand," I lied.

"Roger will hate me," he kept murmuring, "Roger will _hate_ me."

"No he won't."

"But... but I think I'm falling for him, Collins."

"What?"

She pulled away from me, trying to wipe her eyes. "I think I'm falling in love with him."

_Fuck_.


	10. Gloomy Sunday

Ch. 10 - POV: **Roger**

**"Angels have no thought of ever returning you. Would they be angry if I thought of joining you?"  
**-_Gloomy Sunday_

_She's sitting in the middle of the floor, her knees pulled up under her chin. She's shaking, sweating, her teeth chattering violently._

_She's a terrifying mess._

_The loft is different. Everything is a little skewed, like someone took Mark's camera and held it crooked. And all of the furniture is too big. And the shadows are dark purple._

_But her? She's just the same. Only in more pain then he ever remembered her in._

_I hear a heartbeat. I'm not sure who's it is. Mine? No, her's._

_All I want to do is run to her, to hold her and make her feel better, but every time I try to get near her, she fades away, disappearing just before I can get to her. It's infuriating. Not matter how I try, he can't get to her. She always leaves._

_I figure its payback._

_But she always reappears, sitting, shivering, in another part of the room. This time it's the floor. I promise myself he won't go to her this time – I want her to stay as long as possible._

_I call out to her. "Mimi." She's so close I know she should be able to hear me. But she doesn't. "Mimi!"_

_She doesn't do anything. She just stares blankly ahead of her, shaking._

_Her eyes are closed._

_I can't take it. I need to be with her. Never before have I wanted anything so badly - she is my drug now._

_She just sits, eyes open now, staring at nothing and shaking._

_I take a step, very slowly. Another._

_She starts fading._

Not again.

_I rush to her as fast as I can and finally touch her before she leaves me again._

_She is fire and magic; the shining dead._

_She feels like nothing. I hold her so tightly I'm scared I might break her. But I don't care._

_I'm just happy she's not leaving._

_"Roger."_

_The first time she says my name, it's so quiet I don't hear. But she says it again. "Roger."_

_"Yes? Yes?"_

_"My eyes… my eyes…"_

_I look at her, finally close enough to see into her eyes. There is no iris – that intoxicating brown that I remember all too vividly was replaced by deep black. It's expanding – the black of death and disease is taking over the whites of her eyes._

_I let go of her. This isn't the woman I remember._

_"My eyes." She says this as if she's insisting on something._

_"Mimi…" I don't know what to do or what to say, so I just sit beside her on the floor, drenched in the purple darkness of the loft._

_"Eyes, eyes,_ eyes_." She looks right at me. Her eyes completely back now, I'm scared it's going to swallow the rest of her up._

_"I don't understand."_

_"No, you don't."_

_She's fading again. Outlines and shadows linger. I know I won't see her again._

_"Mimi,_ what_?"_

_"I'm not happy!"_

* * *

I woke up in a cold sweat. It took me a minute to remember where I was, but as my eyes moved around the room I realized he was in my bedroom. I rubbed my hand over my face. I was exhausted, but I knew I'd never be able to get back to sleep. This was a second dream that night. I glanced over at the digital clock: 12:47.

Sighing, I got up and walked out into the main room of the loft, now so normal and ordinary after the dream.

I opened the refrigerator and grabbed a beer, still stupid with sleep. As I turned for the sofa, I looked over at the vodka bottle on the counter. I grabbed that, too.

* * *

A few hours later I heard the door to Mark's room creak open. My heart stopped – Mark hated when I drank, so I always tried my best to hide it from him. It would kill him to know I spent my nights alone and drunk, wallowing in self pity and regret.

But Mark doesn't come out of the room – it's his girlfriend. Being so drunk I can't think of her name.

"Roger?" she whispered. "Is that you?"

"Yeah." I didn't even try to keep quiet.

She crept over to me, looking at the few empty beers and he half empty bottle on the table. "Oh," she muttered.

"Go back to sleep, Chicago," I order.

She shook her head and sat down in the chair across from me. "Nah, I can't sleep. Mind if I join you?"

I was surprised. "You're not mad I'm sitting here getting shit-faced?"

She shook her head and took the vodka from the table. She took two quick gulps and winced as it burned. "That would make me a hypocrite now, wouldn't it?"

I smiled at her. She quietly stood up and tip-toed to the kitchen, taking a beer for herself and rummaging around for a bit until she found what she wanted – a long forgotten bottle of whisky.

"You wanna cut that with something?" I asked.

"But that would just take longer, wouldn't it?"

I nodded. Drinking wasn't fun for wither of us anymore, it was just a means to an end. "So, I know why I'm out here getting drunk at three in the morning – "

"It's only two-thirty," she corrected me.

"Whatever. I know why I'm here. Why are you?"

She sunk deeper into the chair, opening her can of beer and drinking for a minute. "I'm not a very strong person," she said, finally.

"That makes two of us."

"Want to tell me about her?"

I looked back up at her through the dark. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she was in Mark's pajama bottoms. "Who?"

"Mimi."

Just hearing other people say her name was difficult.

"Not really."

She nodded, understandingly. "You can if you want, though. I mean, I know we still don't know each other all that well… but I know how hard loose is on a person. And you've seen too much lose."

I swallowed, hard. "Yeah. I have."

* * *

We talked and drank for a long time. I kept glancing out the window to make sure the sun wasn't coming up and she kept yelling at me to be quiet because I was going to wake everyone. Of course, doing this she was much louder then I was.

I felt cloudy and far off, like I was wandering through a dream I'd had a long time ago. But I hated dreams now.

"What's wrong?" she asked me.

"I dream about her," I said after a while. No use in hiding it - my tongue was already too loose.

"Who?"

"Mimi. She always comes to me in these crazy dreams… and she always tells me she's unhappy. She, like, _screams_ it at me."

She thought about this for awhile, clearly trying to use her clouded mind to think of an appropriate response. "At least you get to see her," she said at last.

"Do you dream about your sister? About – what's her name? – Shannon?"

She looked down at her (third) beer. "Yeah, sometimes, but not like you do." She looked back up at me and I wasn't sure of the very new light from the window was hitting her eyes or she was tearing up. "My dreams are just memories, though. She doesn't come and talk to me."

I nodded, not knowing exactly what to say. I remembered how quiet and introverted she had been the past few days. I realized then I was being selfish, thinking I was the only one who had problems. But something was clearly wrong with the girl sitting across from me. And it wasn't just her, either. Collins had lost the love of his life and every day I looked at him and knew the light from his eyes was just a little duller. Maureen disappeared in the night and when she came back she was always quiet, her eyes downcast. She's left at ten tonight anf still hadn't come back. And Mark was left to pick up the pieces.

"One of us to survive," I muttered.

"What?" Chicago asked me.

"Nothing."

"Tomorrow is the anniversary of Shannon's death in three days. Well," she said, looking out the window, "Today, I guess. I've had this crazy countdown in my head for weeks now."

I nodded, slowly. "Sorry," I mumble.

She took a quick sip of whiskey. She hated the way it tasted, but was willing to put up with it for the effect. "Her funeral sucked."

"I'll bet."

"Roger?"

"Mhmm?"

"Tell me about Mimi's funeral."

I sat there for a moment, stupidly staring at her and making sure I'd heard right. "Her funeral?"

"Yeah."

"It sucked, too."

She nodded.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was the fact that she wanted to know, or maybe I just really wanted to talk about it, but never realized it before, but I suddenly I wanted nothing more then to tell this almost-stranger about that day.

"I stopped taking my AZT after she died," I began. "And I wasn't eating much. And I… I was using again. I just wanted to die. I just wanted it to end, you know?"

"I know."

"So, when I was up near the… what's it called? Alter, that's it. Anyway, when I was up near the casket… I just… collapsed. And Mark was there," I said slowly, trying to recall the few vague memories I had of that moment despite the booze that still fogged my mind. "And then I woke up in a hospital. That's when they sent me to rehab."

"Fainting in front of her casket? That's dramatic."

"It's not very manly," I snorted, bitterly.

"Well, it's poetic."

"It's pathetic."

"No, it's not."

"How would you know?"

She sighed. "I know a thing or two about being pathetic."

"Oh yeah? Like what?"

She crossed her legs and brushed her hair out of her face, missing the first time and getting it on the second. "I fell."

"Fell?"

She nodded.

"So what?"

She stared blankly out the window. "I fell down some stairs. The stairs of my apartment. After Shannon died. I wanted to die. How stupid," she said, with a kind of laugh that was half sob. "How stupid was I to think that falling down stairs would kill me? But... I was going out to go shopping and I looked down those stairs..." Her eyes were glazed over, far-off, back to that day. "I looked down the stairs and imagined how wonderful it would be to fall, for a long time, to be beaten up by the concrete. To die. Right then."

She was crying. My first instinct was to look away. My second was to go over and comfort her (if I could make it over to her without stumbling). But I realized that this was something she's never admitted before. She just needed to talk. "Like I said... stupid."

"That's not stupid," I said, quietly.

She shook her head, sniffling to stop her nose from running. "No, it was. I blacked out and woke up in the hospital. And they asked me what happened." She sobbed. "I told them I fell." She wiped her eyes with the palms of her hands, her shoulders shaking. "I lied."

"It's okay, Chicago." _Damn I wish I could remember her fucking name… Lily_. _That's it_. "It's okay, Lily."

She smiled through her tears after I said her name. But it quickly faded.

"What happened next?"

She looked out the window again. "Nothing."

"Liar."

She looked back at me. "Takes one to know one."

I don't say anything.

"Mark doesn't know," she whispered.

The front door slides open before I can think of anything else to say. Maureen walked in, tired and defeated.

She was surprised to see us. We both stared back at her, each one of us waiting for the other to say something.

Maureen looked from Lily to me a few times. "You trying to get drunk enough to fuck her and pretend it's Mimi?"

It was my turn to be surprised. My eyes widened, but I said nothing.

"That was mean," Lily says, flatly.

Maureen shook her head, dismissively. "Yeah, sorry. Rough night."

"Where were you?" I asked.

"Nowhere."

"You were _somewhere_," Lily points out.

"How about I don't tell Mark you two are up drinking all our booze and you don't tell him I got in so late – er, early."

Lily looked over at me, but I kept my eyes locked on Maureen. "Where were you?"

She blinked quickly a few times, a habit of her's whenever she got upset. "I'm not telling _you_."

Lily stood up, bring some of our empty bottles to the kitchen. "Let's all just go to bed."

Maureen took a few steps toward her. "Miss Chicago, you been crying?"

I stood up, too. "Leave her alone, Mo."

She looks at me like she hates me - like she wants me to hate her back. I know she's been up to no good, but I don't care enough to pry it out of her. I slink off int my bedroom and let tears silently slide onto my pillow. I feel like I'm cursed. Death follows me. Disease follows me. Suicide follows me.

* * *

_"It's your fault. I'm not happy."_


	11. Sweet Religion

Ch. 11 - POV: **Maureen**

**"Will you be there when I need yah?"  
**- _Sweet Religion_, Imogen Heap

He had a beer, but I didn't want to drink.

"You looked upset," he said, coolly.

"I _am_ upset."

He drank some more, staring off into space.

"You gunna ask me _why_?"

"No, because you're not going to tell me."

I looked over at Benny – Benny, who I had been sneaking around with for too long now. He was right, I didn't want to talk about anything. But some part of me felt like opening up to him. Sure he was inconsiderate at times – and a douche other times – but loosing Allison (and most of his money) had made him more real then I'd ever known him to be. He'd lived and he'd lost. Like the rest of us.

Benny wasn't just Benny anymore.

I tried to tell myself that I wasn't really falling for him, that I was just having trouble separating sex and emotions, but… when had that ever been a problem for _me_? Benny was the rock I wanted to cling to in my tidal wave of a life.

"I yelled at Roger," I admitted.

He smiled.

"What? That's _funny_?"

"I knew you'd tell me."

"Just shut up."

He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Mo. I want to hear what happened. Why'd you yell at him?"

I shrugged. I should be at home. I should be explaining this to Collins, the only person I had trusted with my horrible secret. But I didn't want to be. "I just… I really want him mad at me."

"Why?"

I looked away from him, pulling a pillow onto my lap. "Do you want to just have sex and forget I started talking?"

"No."

My heart stopped. _No_?

"I want you to tell me why you want Roger mad at you," he said.

"Because of you. Because he _should_ be mad at me. And he would be, if he knew."

"Then why don't you tell him?"

I rubbed my eyes. I wasn't tired, I was just making sure I wouldn't tear up. "It'd hurt him. He shouldn't be hurt anymore."

Benny nodded along was I spoke. "You're an adult, Maureen. We all are. As I see it, we have two options here: either we stop seeing each other like this, or we tell Roger."

"I don't want to stop seeing you." I said that quicker then I'd meant to.

"Then we tell him."

_We._

I put my head in my hands and he stood up and walked over to where I sat, across the room. He put him arm over my shoulders and kissed the top of my head. "We don't have to tell him right away, if you don't want."

I looked back up at him, confused. "Why are you being _nice_ to me?"

Benny sat down deeper into the sofa, getting comfortable beside me. "I like you," he said, simply.

"I'm a little worried, Benny."

I looked over at him, his big, brown eyes wide and ready to listen to anything I had to say. I realized that as much as I wanted something stable and normal, Benny wanted someone to take care of. He wanted to be my rock.

"About what?"

I couldn't help the smile that spread over my lips. "I think we've just taken the first step toward becoming a legitimate couple."

* * *

Later that night I laid next to him, hair sprawled out on the pillow behind me. We stared up at the ceiling.

"Do you miss her?" I asked.

"Always."

"I'm sorry."

He turned over on his side and looked at me. "You help."

* * *

I came home a little happier then usual. Maybe things weren't horrible with my life, maybe I wasn't ruining everything. More then likely I _was_, but I decided to push those thoughts out of my mind for a while and just let myself be happy.

I snuck into the loft as quietly as I could, hoping no one was up. I scanned the room for Roger. But I didn't find him. I saw Chicago, sitting on the window ledge, staring outside.

I didn't want to scare her, so I whispered, loudly, "Miss Chicago, it's just me."

She didn't move or make any sign that she'd heard me. I took a few steps nearer to her. "Hey… you okay?"

She turned her head, looking at me over her shoulder. The neon glow from the lights and trashcan fires from outside made her look like some terrifying angel. Her hair was wild, her eyes were dead. She was shaking.

"Maureen."

I rushed over to her, not bothering to be quiet anymore. "Honey? Honey, what's wrong?"

She was sweating. Her body was limp and her skin was cold. "Help me."

"I will. I will." Terror ran through me. This was how she looked; this was how Mimi looked. "I'll help you."

"Th-th-thank you."

I ran my hands up and down her arms. "How can I help you? What can I do?"

"Oxy."

"Oxy...? Can't you breathe? Are you-?"

"_Oxycodone_."

My mind froze. My heart stopped. Did I hear right? "Are you sick?"

She rocked back and forth. "Do I _look_ all right?" she cried. "Yes, I'm sick! Maureen… Maureen, I _need_ you. I need your help. I need _oxy_."

"I, uh…"

"I can't sleep, I can't eat, I hurt everywhere."

"You're a _drug addict_?"

She closed her eyes, still shaking. "_Help me_."

**End of Part Two: Ah, Look at All the Lonely People.**

* * *

**AN:**

Thanks for all the reviews, guys, it totally makes my day to hear what you guys think. This story is a lot longer then I thought it would be, but there's only one part left, and that's the part where everything happens :P  
Also, most of the songs I've been quoting are really good, I deffinatly suggest them :) And, as always, I'm open to suggestions.  
I'm sorry updates have been so slow in coming, I'll try to make them quicker. I know this is a long story, but I hope it all pays off. Be prepared for the exciting conclusion!!!1!!1one! And thanks so much to everyone who's read this far. You guys _rule_.

Okay, so here's some little tid-bits for Part Three, in case I take forever writing it:  
- It's very likely we'll see Joanne again.  
- It's very likely we'll see someone else that we know well, but haven't seen yet.  
- Someone goes missing.  
- Collins love interest?  
- The stairs.


	12. The Only Difference Between Martydom

**Part Three: Nobody Said it was Easy**  
- _The Scientist_, Coldplay

Ch. 12 - POV: **Mark**

**"I'm the narrator and this is just the prologue."**  
- _The Only Difference Between Martydom and Suicide is Press Coverage_, Panic! at the Disco

It was raining. Roger shook me awake from my nap.

"What?" I muttered, still asleep.

"Get up," he ordered.

"_Why_?" I groaned. I searched my mind for something I might have forgotten to do today. There wasn't anything.

"I don't know. Lily wants to tell us something."

"Lily?"

I was never up faster.

* * *

Lily was a mess. She looked like she hadn't slept in days. She had lost weight, was pale, and the light had gone out from her eyes.

My heart broke for her.

Maureen sat Collins, Roger and I down in the living room.

She ignored my pleas to know what was going on.

Finally, we all turned to Lily. She sat across from us, a little hunched over, picking absently at her nails. Her hair was a curtain was brown that she was trying to hide behind.

My mouth was dry, my throat was closed. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, to tell her it's be all right, but I wasn't sure I could form words.

She looked up at me. "Mark… guys… I should tell you…"

* * *

I held Lily all night that night. Sheets of rain poured down the windows and the loft shook with thunder.

"Sorry," she kept whimpering. "Sorry."

I didn't answer. It was all I could do to keep myself together for her.

I vowed then never to let anyone tell me that I couldn't deal with reality. For someone who had always stayed as far away from it was possible, I was doing a pretty damn good job dealing with it right now.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

She was half asleep, curled up into my chest. "Huh?"

"Why Maureen? Why not me?"

She stretched out her legs and scratched beside her eye.

_God damn, she's beautiful._

"I don't know," she murmured, whispering so as not to wake anyone. "I wasn't planning on it… she walked in one night and… fuck, I don't know. I just said it."

"But I told you that you could tell me anything. Remember? I still mean that."

She nodded, closing her eyes again.

I didn't want to leave it alone. "Lily? Lily, didn't you remember?"

"Yeah," she whispered, her eyes still closed.

"Then why didn't you? Why didn't you come to me? I would have helped you."

She curled up into a call, trying to fall asleep. "I was protecting you."

I could barely hear her. "From what?"

"Me."

* * *

I was up long after Lily fell asleep. Roger was, too. I could hear him in the living room. He never slept much anymore.

Maureen running off to God-knows-where, Roger with his nightmares and drinking, and now Lily going with withdrawal.

I wanted nothing more then to help my friends – to save them – but I felt absolutely helpless.

I realized then that I really was the witness.


	13. All The Things She Said

Ch.13 - POV: **Joanne**

**"All the things she said, all the things she said; running through my head."  
**- _All the Things She Said_, Tatu

Climbing the stairs up to the loft was one of the weirdest experiences of déjà vu I'd ever had. But I was still smiling. I'd been away for so long that I couldn't wait to see everyone again.

Even her.

I had got off the phone with Collins that morning. I was back in New York to see my parents. I had one day to spend in New York, so I was only going to spend the afternoon with my friends (where they still my friends?) then have dinner with my parents.

I inhaled deeply at the top of the stairs. A million flashbacks ran through my mind. (How many times had I stood in this spot before? Too many to remember.)

Detroit was nice, but it was no New York.

I made it to the door and knocked three times.

And then Maureen opened the door.

I felt like I had the wind knocked out of me. All of the memories that had been floating through my head were gone, instantly, and I thought of nothing but her, standing there in front of me in dark jeans and a white tank top.

She was heartbreakingly beautiful.

"Hi," she said, as coolly as she could manage.

"Hi."

It was the first time we'd seen each other since... I tried not to remind myself.

Everyone else crowded around the door. "Joanne!" Mark cried. We hugged and I forgot about Maureen for a moment. Almost.

"I missed you!" I laughed.

"I missed you, too. Hey, you able to stay long?"

"Not really, why?"

He just shook his head. "I've got a _lot_ to tell you."

I hugged Roger (who looked awful), then Collins. Horrible memories of being in the hospital with all of them for hours and hours came back to me. Suddenly I missed Angel and Mimi horribly and realized how small our group looked now.

Maureen and I hugged. Even if I was still angry with her, I knew I'd always love her. It was impossible _not_ to fall in love with Maureen.

Then Collins brought another girl forward. She looked like she was in her early twenties. She had bags under her eyes and seemed strained and exhausted, but I could tell she was making an effort to make a good impression.

She held out her hand. "I'm Lily."

I shook her hand and then (after a few more hugs from Mark) we all sat down. Maureen walked a few steps behind her. Even if I couldn't see her, I could feel her.

But even in Detroit I could feel her.

* * *

_I could feel her standing behind me as I emptied my closet._

_"What are you doing?"_

_"Leaving."_

_"Yeah," she scoffed, "like I haven't heard_ that _before…"_

_I looked back at her, over my shoulder. "I mean it this time."_

_"And where exactly are you planning on going?" Maureen spat._

_"Far."_

_She placed her hands on her hips, dramatically. "It's not like you're threatening me here, Jo. What do you want me to do, beg you to stay?" She gave a bitter laugh. "It's not like you're actually - "_

_"I_ mean _it this time, Mo," I repeated, sternly. I hurriedly packed my things into a suitcase._

_"Slow down, slow down," she hissed, annoyed. She walked over to me. "Fine then… where are you going?"_

_"Detroit."_

_"Ha. Yeah,_ right_."_

_I looked over my shoulder at her. "I am."_

_She pulled me away from my bags. "What do you mean you're going to_ Detroit_?"_

_I pulled myself away from her. "I got a job up there."_

_"And when were you planning on telling me this?" she yelled. I could see that it was slowly dawning on her that this wasn't just another of my thinly veiled empty threats._

_I rolled my eyes. "Calm down, Maureen."_

_"Calm down?_ Calm down_? How did you_ expect _me to react?"_

_I sighed, steadying myself. "Maureen, listen. We've been fighting for weeks."_

_"We always fight."_

_"But it's different."_

_"How?"_

_I knew I had to tell her, that there was absolutely no getting around this… but I still tried to conjure up ways I might escape from this room._

_She just stared at me, her body stiff and angry, but her big brown eyes pleading._

_"I slept with someone," I admitted, simply._

_I expected her to get angry, to yell, the cry, to scream, to over react – like she always did. But she was surprisingly poised._

_"Who?" she asked, calmly._

_"Does it matter?"_

_"I guess not."_

_We stared at each other for a while, until I turned back to my packing._

_"Why?" she asked softly._

_I didn't look back at her. "A lot of reasons."_

_"Give me one."_

_"Well," I sighed, stuffing a shirt into my suitcase, "for one thing we haven't said more then three words to each other all week."_

_Maureen walked over to me, grabbed my hands away from the suitcase and held them. "So you just leave? We just give up? After everything?"_

_"Trust me, Maureen. We're not giving up. We gave this our all… and it didn't work."_

_"But…"_

_"Look," I said, pulling my hands away, "whether we like it or not, our relationship is always going to be a rollercoaster. We're not going to be twenty-four forever, you know? Don't you want something… I don't know,_ normal_? Steady? I do."_

_"Pookie…"_

_"Don't start with that," I snapped. "And don't act like I'm some kind of monster because I'm leaving and you're just the innocent victim. And," I said, a little quieter, "don't act like I'm the only one who cheated."_

_She swallowed. "Fine. Whatever. Bye, then."_

_She turned to leave._

_I knew we couldn't end like this. "Wait, Mo…"_

_"No, forget it. This is a rollercoaster, remember? Time to get off the fucking ride, I guess."_

_"Maureen, clearly we need to talk about this."_

_"Talk?" she cried, suddenly emotional. "_Talk_? Did we talk about you leaving? No. We're making decisions without each other now, remember?"_

_"I…"_

_"I'm glad you're leaving." She spun on her heal, her dark hair a swirling mass of curls behind her._

_"Wait, Maureen! We can't - "_

_She faced the door, her fists clenched. "I hope she was worth it."_

_She left and I sat down on the edge of the bed and cried._

* * *

"So what have you guys been up to?"

We were sitting around the loft, drinking beer and eating chips. I would have rather been at the Life Café, but, according to Mark, Roger still had yet to leave the loft since he got back from rehab.

Lily shifted uncomfortably beside Mark.

Roger tried in vain to keep his eyes from closing.

Maureen stared down at her drink.

What was _wrong_ with them?

"Not much," Collins answered. "You?"

I shrugged. "Work's pretty crazy, but I like it. Of course," I smiled, "I do miss New York. So, uh, Mark, how'd you meet Lily?"

The two told me about how they met in Chicago. They seemed like a cute couple, but I could tell there was something they weren't telling me.

Collins lit a joint.

Maureen looked over at the clock.

"You got somewhere to be?" he asked.

She shook her head. "I just said I'd meet a friend later." She glared at Collins, angrily. I forgot how terrifying her stare could be.

"Who?" I asked innocently.

She bit her lip and looked over at Collins, her eyes half asking for advise, half asking for permission.

Collins just shrugged, leaning back in his chair, smoking.

"What?" I asked. "Did I say something wrong?"

"No," she said. "It's no one." She forced a laugh.

"Is it that same 'friend' from the Clit Club?" Mark asked. "You've been seeing a lot of her lately, eh?"

Maureen put her head in her hands.

Had this happened a year ago I would have gone to her; tried to figure out what was wrong and try to fix it for her.

I had to remind myself not to.

"Mo?" Mark asked, concerned.

"Now or never," muttered Collins.

A tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. To my surprise, she turned to Roger. "I'm sorry," she said, softly.

He sat up, fully awake now. "Why?"

She wiped her eyes. "I've… I've been s-s-sleeping with Benny."

* * *

_I called Mark and the others and we went down to the Life Café the night before I left. I hadn't seen Maureen since we'd fought and she was conspicuously absent that night. I asked Mark about her._

_He shrugged, adjusting his glasses. "She's fine," he muttered._

_I rolled my eyes. "I want to know, Mark. How is she? What's she been doing?"_

Does she talk about me?

_Mark bit the inside of his cheek, thinking of a way to tactfully put the news I knew was coming. "She's sleeping around, Jo. A lot – or so I hear," he added, quickly._

_I couldn't help but wonder if Maureen and Mark had… No, I'd be able to tell if they had. Right?_

_"She's kind of a mess," Mark went on, "a blur. It's like she can't sit still."_

_I nodded and we sat down at our table. The group was small – Mark, Collins, Gordon, Paul, Pam, Rosie, a couple girls from the Clit Club, Jill, a few people we'd met at some of Roger's gigs, and I._

_"It's my fault," I whispered to Mark, who took his seat beside me._

_He didn't answer._

_I put my head in my hand. "But I didn't think she'd react so… childishly."_

_"You broke her heart," Mark whispered._

_I looked over at him, tears brimming in my eyes, though I willed them not to. "My heart's broken, too, Mark. She's broken my heart a million times before. We just have different ways of dealing with things, I guess."_

_"Why are you leaving?" he asked. "Really?"_

_"I got a job," I answered, simply._

_He shook his head._

_"No? Then tell me Mark – why_ am _I leaving?"_

_"You're guilty."_

_I took a swig of beer._

_He was right._

* * *

"Benny?" Roger repeated. "_Benny_?"

Maureen put her head in her hands and sobbed. "Sorry," she whispered, shakily.

Collins rubbed his forehead with his thumb and forefinger. He must have already known about this.

Roger stood up, unsure of what to do with himself. "For how long?" he demanded.

"Not that long…" Maureen was quiet, trying to make herself as small as possible.

"_Why_?"

"There are a lot of reasons, I just… It's not just… We…"

"Shut up," he yelled so loudly I worried the neighbours might hear. "Just shut up! Maureen… you fucking _slut_!"

I cringed. He was _angry_.

She cried, her eyes already ringed with red. "I'm _sorry_."

Collins stood and put his hand on Roger's shoulder. "Calm down, man. We gotta think about this rationally."

"Rationally? _Rationally_?" Roger roared, pushing Collins off of him. "The _one_ guy in the world I hate more then _anyone_ – and she," he pointed at Maureen, "she decides it's time to start _fucking_ him? How many woman does this guy have to take from me?"

Maureen just shook her head. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

Roger glared at her, his usually cold eyes on fire. "Well, you did."

Maureen's face broke my heart – she was destroyed.

But at least now she knew what it was like to feel guilty. Maybe now she'd be able to understand why I left.

* * *

Mark walked out with me later that night and helped me find a taxi.

"Is Roger going to be all right?" I asked. "He seemed really upset…"

Mark nodded. "He'll be fine… we'll all be fine."

I put my arm around his shoulder. He had told me all about Lily, about Roger drinking and trying to hide it, and now with Maureen… "Yes," I agreed. "You'll all be fine."

But I wasn't so sure.

A cab pulled up in front of us. We hugged. "Don't be gone long," he smiled.

"I won't."

I got in the taxi and watched out the back window as Mark, with his head down and his hands shoved in his pockets, walked back inside.

As I drove away I thought about the mess I had left behind in the loft: Roger had locked himself in his room, Maureen had run away (presumably to Benny's) and Lily had started shaking again, getting feverish and sick. Again, I was felt guilty for leaving, but this time I knew I'd be back - soon. And Mark was there to take care of them all.

I just hoped he'd be able to handle the reality of it all.


	14. Closing Time

Ch. 14 - POV: **Maureen**

**"Closing time, every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."  
**- _Closing Time_, Matchbox 20

I walked to Benny's apartment – fast. I just wanted to get out of the street, get away from everyone. I felt like they all _knew_. Every look I got on the street felt harsh and judgmental. I could almost hear the people whisper as the passed me. "Did you hear what she _did_? Poor Roger! What a whore. What a terrible friend."

I stared down at the sidewalk and walked as quickly as I could.

I replayed what had happened that day in my mind like it was stuck on a loop. Over and over again I watched Mark lower his head, Lily look away from me, Collins touch Roger's shoulder, and Joanne's pretty smile fade into that all-to familiar look of disappointment.

But mostly I replayed Roger's voice – the way he had shouted at me, the way his throat strained a he tried not to give away the fact that all he wanted to do was cry. But worst of all was when he spoke quietly. "You were my _friend_," he had said, softly, hoarsely. "You were supposed to…"

That beautiful, musical voice sounding like that – to me!

I pulled my coat closer to me and walked quicker, trying – and failing – to forget.

Yes, I was running away.

I see now why it was so easy for everyone else. Roger going off to Santa Fe, Joanne to Detroit, Mark to Chicago… it was my turn.

It was only fair that I get my turn, too.

Right?

* * *

He opened the door.

"Maureen?"

I didn't look up at him, just shifted my weight uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

I heard him sigh heavily. "You told him, didn't you?"

I just nodded. I felt my throat close up as I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to stop the tears I knew I wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.

_Since when did I become some kind of weeping damsel in distress? _

He reached over to put his arm around me.

I backed up. "Don't," I ordered, suddenly angry.

Benny looked confused.

"Don't," I said again. "I don't need you to pity me right now."

Benny just nodded, though he still didn't seem to know what I meant. He stepped out of the doorway and I walked in.

I plopped down on the sofa. Benny tried to sit next to me, but I moved away.

"What?" he asked.

I sighed, bringing my hand to my forehead. "I don't know… I just… He _yelled_ at me, Ben."

Benny sat quietly across from me, waiting for me to continue. I didn't want to. I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep until all of this was over. But he deserved to know.

"He yelled at me and… and everyone was there… even Joanne… and…" I finally looked up at him. "And it sucked."

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

I shrugged. "Not your fault, I guess."

"But it takes two to tango, right?"

I perked my head up. "_Tango_?"

"Yeah. So what?"

"Nothing."

Benny tried to shift closer to me again. "You can stay here. As long as you want, all right?"

I looked over at him. "You're being too nice."

He smiled.

I didn't.

"Seriously," I said. "You were never this nice to me before – even after we got together. Suddenly you're my hero?"

"I was just trying to…"

I closed my eyes. "Sorry. You're right. I'm just frustrated."

"It's okay." He was close enough to put his arm around me.

I paused, taking a moment to look up at him, trying to place where I had seen this look on his face before.

He must have noticed the way I was scrutinizing him. "What?"

I narrowed my eyes, thinking.

"I'm not her, you know."

He looked confused, pulling his arm away from me. "What are you talking about?"

"I'm not _Mimi_."

That struck a chord. "Maureen… what the Hell?" he cried. "Did I ever say you were? Why would you even - "

"You're looking at me the way you used to look at her. Whenever she ran to you when things got hard with Roger or she had no where to go – _that's_ how you looked at her."

He was quiet for a moment. His anger was completely different from Roger's. Where Roger had yelled and let out everything he could, Benny bottled it up, being completed silent, his jaw set and his eyes the only clue that something was wrong. Both were equally horrible. Why was I destroying every relationship I had with men that night? I may as well have called up Mark and broken up him all over again.

I realized neither of us had spoken for a while.

"Look, Benny… my mind is all over the place right now. I was basically just kicked out of my own home and everyone there hates me. Do you have any idea how that feels?"

It was his turn to narrow his eyes at me. "Are you _kidding_ me? Do you even _remember_ how my marriage ended? Do you remember how all of you hated me – _still_ hate me – for leaving in the first place? I know exactly how you feel, Maureen. _Exactly_."

I lowered my eyes, staring at the floor.

"And so, when you come here upset and looking for some reassurance, I try to help. I'm sorry if… if I looked at _her_ like that. But think about it, Mo, this same thing happened to Mimi. History is repeating itself. So _of course_ I look the same."

He was right.

"And how dare you even mention her!"

I looked back up at him, surprised that he had raised his voice so much.

"I know you all resented my relationship with Mimi, I know what we did hurt Roger, but… but they had broken up and…" He was struggling to explain himself, to justify it.

"You don't need to explain - "

"But I still loved her! She was my friend, too, Maureen!"

I felt like a child being scolded by a teacher.

"You all came together when she died. You all had each other. You leaned on each other and cried together and healed each other. But who did I have? I dealt with it alone. I didn't have anyone to turn to, anyone to…"

His voice trailed off. He had tears in his eyes. I couldn't even feel my heart beat any more. I could only assume it had shattered and lay somewhere at the bottom of my stomach.

_How did we get here? How the Hell?_

"I'm sorry, Benny." I put my hand on his knee. I expected him to recoil, to push me away, but he didn't. But he didn't look at me. "I didn't mean to upset you. I just didn't want… to be _pitied_. I don't deserve to be pitied right now. Everything that's happened has been my own fault. And I didn't want to be your _her_. Some else that needed saving. I wanted – I _want_ this relationship to be new, our own. I was just scared. I'm sorry."

He finally looked up at me. "It's fine."

He wasn't very convincing.

My hand still on his knee, a smile spread over my lips.

He looked up and saw it. "What's so funny?"

"This was our first real fight, wasn't it?"

"I guess so."

I leaned back. "I'm sorry, Benny, but it looked like we're going to be a real couple after all."


	15. Numb

Ch. 15 - POV: **Lily**

**"Living in your head without anything to numb you."  
**- _Numb_, Sia

I wasn't thinking clearly.

I'd found Roger's secret stash of booze – I'd always wondered where he got it from, now I realized he had been hoarding it.

I drank it. All.

I just wanted to be numb, to be nothing, to no think or feel or want or need.

I knew I was falling already apart, I just thought I ought to speed up the process.

I finally had the courage to do it now.

I was out of my mind. My thoughts weren't mine. I didn't care. I was glad to be rid of them.

It was late, but a few of them were still awake. I can hear Collins in the kitchen, talking to Joanne on the phone. She had left yesterday, after Roger's meltdown. Maureen had run off again - probably to Benny's. Roger hasn't spoken to anyone since.

And his nightmeres are worse. I can here him shouting in his sleep.

I couldn't make it to the balcony without passing Collins. So I crept over to the front door, opening it as quietly as I could.

But he heard me. "Chicago? What're you doin'?"

I inhaled, slowly. If I spoke, he'd know how sloshed I was. I was sure I'd slur any words I tried to say.

My head was swimming. I was underwater.

I steadied myself on the wall. In the dark I knew he wouldn't be able to tell I was crying.

"Chicago?"

"I need air."

My voice was flat, but my words were more drawn out then I would have liked them to be. But it didn't really bother me – it felt as if someone else had spoken them. I was just a fly on the wall, watching myself stumble in the dark loft, convincing my self that none of this was real, that it was one of Mark's movies, that it was one of Roger's dreams…

"Are you okay?" Collins asked.

I nodded. My head swirled – I had moved to fast. I tightened my grip on the door handle, praying I wouldn't fall.

"Where are you - "

"I'm backing soon."

I darted out the door, slamming it behind me.

_I'm backing soon_? I knew I hadn't made any sense, but I didn't care. I didn't care about anything, nothing mattered.

(Mark mattered.)

I pushed him out of my mind.

(But he floated back. Like he always did.)

(I was in love with him.)

_Don't leave him, don't leave him,_ I begged myself. But I knew I would. Alcohol mad me stronger.

(Weaker.)

I couldn't leave me before - now I could.

I sobbed, sucking in my air too fast. I was hyper ventilating.

Did it matter?

Not really.

It wouldn't stop me.

I looked at my ring. It was beautiful, glittering, magic. Like her. God, I missed her.

I walked over to the stairs and looked over the railing as the steps winded down underneath me.

_I just want my bloody drugs._

_(I just want my bloody sister.)_

I climbed over the railing. I realized I was being very careful. It struck me as funny. But I didn't laugh.

The ledge was small. Only half of my feet fit onto it. My hands clenched the railing behind me so tightly my knuckles were white.

Two words ran through my head over and over…

_The end. The end. The end._

"Help me one more time, Shan," I whispered. My fingers loosened their vice-like grip on the railing. She always came, wherever I needed her. I needed her now. It wouldn't be longer before we -

"_Lily_!"


	16. First Love

Ch. 16 - POV: **Collins**

**"Forgive me, First Love."  
**- _First Love_, Adele

I had been talking to Joanne for hours. She'd gone back up to Detroit and I was filling her in on all of the oh-so-dramatic happenings that she was missing.

"Oh, Collins," she sighed. "We could write a book about all the shit that's happened."

"We don't need to, Mark'll just make a movie."

She laughed. "Well, that's something."

I told her about how Maureen had left and Roger had locked himself up in his room. He talked to Mark a bit, but aside from that he had been totally quiet – unless he was sleeping. He always talked in his sleep.

"What have _you_ been doing?" she asked.

"Drinking," I admitted. "But not here. We don't drink in front of Roger," I added.

"Mmmh. That's probably for the best."

"Yeah, I juat go over t the Life Café, drink, smoke…" I laughed, a little bitterly, "just distance myself for a few hours."

"Well, sometimes you need that."

I nodded, but didn't say anything.

"Collins? You still there?"

"Sorry. Yeah."

"What's wrong?"

I figured if I was going to tell anyone, it might as well be Joanne. "It's nothing, really," I said.

"Tell me," she ordered. You couldn't say no to Joanne when she was being stern.

"It's just… I met this guy, Tom, about a week ago. We've been talking…"

"You guys screwed yet?"

"Jo! No, we've just been talking. But…" I sighed, heavily. "But I really like him, Jo."

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. "Collins, it's all right."

"Is it?" I genuinely wanted to know.

"I know you miss her, baby, but… but you don't have to feel guilty about liking this guy – what's his name again?"

"Tom."

Another pause.

"I think Angel would want you to talk to this 'Tom' guy."

It was hard hearing someone say her name.

"I miss her," I said, softly.

"Me, too."

I missed her _so_ much.

Suddenly, I heard the door open. I turned to see who it was. "Chicago? What're you doin'?"

"What's going on?" I heard Joanne ask. I didn't answer.

"Chicago?" I asked again when Lily didn't answer me.

_Has she been crying?_

"I need air."

"Are you okay?"

"Collin's, who's there?" Joanne asked.

Lily nodded. But why was she leaving in the middle of the night?

"Where are you - "

"I'm backing soon."

As quickly as she could manage, Lily darted out the door, shutting it firmly behind her.

"Collins, what's going on?" Joanne asked.

"It was Chicago, I explained. "She said she needed air. Sounded pretty damn drunk to me."

"I thought you guys didn't drink in front of Roger."

"Yeah…" I murmured, thoughtfully. "Me, too."

"Is she all right?"

"I don't think so. I know she's pretty weird, but that freaked me right out. She looked fuckin' dead. Well, almost dead."

"You should go check on her."

Just then, Mark stepped out of his room.

"Collins," he said, rubbing his eyes. "You seen Lily? She just - "

"Hold on, Jo," I said into the phone. "It's Mark."

"Hi Mark."

"Joanne says hi," I said. "And yeah, she just went out the door. She said she needed air and that she'd be back soon… at least, I _think_ that's what she said."

Mark seemed confused and still half asleep. "Outside?"

I nodded. "She looked rough. Go check on her."

He turned and went out the door after her.

"Mark's gone to get Lily," I told Joanne.

"Oh, good. Now where were we? Oh yeah, Tom…"

And then I heard Mark scream.

"_Lily_!"

My heart sank to the bottom of my stomach. I knew exaclty what had happened.


	17. Jumper

Ch. 17 - POV: **Mark**

**"I wish you would step back form that ledge, my friend."  
**- _Jumper_, Third Eye Blind

"_Lily_!"

She was over the wrong side the railing, limp like some kind of horrible rag doll. Only half of her feet fit onto the little ledge, and her hands gripped the railing behind her.

She looked at me over her shoulder. She was sickenly beautiful in the dark. Her eyes were dull – dead. Or close enough.

I ran to her.

"Lily, Lily…"

She blinked a few times, slowly, like she was trying to wake up from some dream, or try and make sure I was really there.

"Go away," she said, slowly, darkly. Dirt tear-streaks lined her face. "Leave me alone."

"What are you _doing_?" I cried. My voice was shrill and too loud. I didn't care.

"I'm leaving," she said, simply, as she turned away from me.

I grabbed her shoulder. "You _can't_ leave. You can't leave me."

"I left you a note."

I was crying. It was strange for me – crying wasn't something I usually did. But I hardly noticed. All I could think about was her in that moment – she filled my entire fucking world and tears didn't matter at all. Nothing did. "Lily… Lily come down. Come down _right now_."

She didn't say anything, just looked down at the concrete floor so many feet below her.

"Lily, _please_."

"Why?"

I didn't know what to say. Why? There were a _million_ reasons why. But what could I say to her? She'd made up her mind. She wanted to jump, she wanted to leave. And Lily was the kind of girl who went after what she wanted.

"Because… because I told her I'd take care of you."

"Told who?" her voice was flat, dead, monotone.

"Shannon."

She turned her head sharply and looked at me again. "What?"

"Before we left Chicago," I explained, still holding onto her shoulder. "It was just after I asked you to come back with me. You went…"

_She went to the doctors_. I suddenly hit me – stupid, blind me – why she had been going to the doctor's so often when we were in Chicago. That's where she got her pills from.

"When you left," I went on, "and I was still there."

"You… _talked_ to her?"

"Yeah. Yeah, of course I did. I said that I'd take good care of you. And I _will_. I'm not letting you leave. You can't leave me."

Her shoulders shook as she sobbed. "I want to go see her, Mark. I want her back."

"I know, I know."

"Everything hurts – I always _hurt_."

"I'll stop," I promised. "You'll feel better, soon."

"I could feel better _now_."

I could feel my heart leave my chest and sink down to my gut. "_No_. Lily, I love you _so_ much. And we wouldn't be able to take it – we won't be able to stand loosing another friend."

She inhaled, shakily, trying to stop herself from crying.

"Stay here," I begged. "Let me keep my promise. Stay here. Stay with me."

I waited, tears I was almost unaware of still streaming down my face. Everything happened in slow motion, like one of my movies. I kept having to remind myself that this was _actually_ happening, that the woman I loved was actually trying to kill herself.

Her hands loosened around the railing. "I love you, too," she said, softly.

I couldn't tell if she was going to climb over to me or jump. I held my breath and hoped.

I'd die without her.


	18. Amazing Grace

Ch. 18 - POV: **Collins**

**"Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound."  
**_- Amazing Grace_

"Collins? Collins, talk to me. What's going on? Collins - "

I completely ignored Joanne. Mark hadn't shut the door when he ran out after Lily. I watched from the living room of the loft as he tried to convince her not to jump. A knot formed in my stomach that I was sure would never completely leave me.

_Death_, I thought. I'd seen it before, too many times. I knew it when I saw it. This was _death_.

It crossed my mind to go out and help; to pull Lily down, to do anything I could. But I knew I'd only hurt the situation. Lily didn't want me out there – she didn't want anyone. She was stuck in her own headspace right then, probably not thinking about much outside of herself – and maybe her pills. She wouldn't even notice I was there, I'd just make everything that Mark said white noise.

"Collins? Collins!"

I remembered I was still talking to Joanne. She sounded terrified.

"Jo?"

"Collins, are you still there?"

"Yeah."

"What _happening_?"

I tried to calm her down. There was no sense in her getting upset if there was nothing she could do to help. Besides, it made me feel like I was doing something.

"Lily's upset." I tried to keep my voice was calm as possible. "Mark's talking to her. They're fine."

"Why are they shouting?"

"Uh… I don't know. It's all right, though. It's all right." I wasn't even convincing myself. "We're okay."

I heard Joanne sigh, unconnvinced, like she'd told herself that before. "Is Maureen there?"

She hesitated a little as she said this – it was the first time either of us had mentioned Maureen.

"No…" I said slowly. I hadn't seen Maureen in a few days. She'd left the night after her dirty little secret came out and hadn't been home since. Mark and I were starting to get worried, but now finding Maureen seemed like the last thing on our minds.

I kept my eye on Mark and Lily. Mark was still talking to her, softly now. Lily seemed to be relaxing, too. But I didn't let myself breathe a sigh of relief just yet.

"Collins?"

"Yeah?"

"How's Roger?"

I suddenly realized that I hadn't seen Roger all day. "Uh… he's in his room," I said.

"Go check on him."

"Why?" I didn't want to take my eyes away from Mark out by the stairs. My heart was racing. I felt that if I looked away for one moment – if I even blinked – something about it might change, something horrible might happen,

"Because if _I_ heard Mark scream, then so did _he_."

I realized she was right. Everyone in the whole bloody building must have heard Mark's blood-curdling _"Lily!"_

(That sound played over and over again in my head. I tried not to think about it. It reminded me to much of Roger's heartbreaking "_Mimi_!" And I knew all too well how that had ended.)

I tip-toed over to Roger's door and pressed my ear to it, the phone still glued on my other ear.

"Is he okay?" Joanne asked.

I listened. "He's… he's _crying_."

Joanne sighed, sadly. "Go talk to him. I'll wait."

I put the phone down on the table, then walked back over to Roger's room. I listened for a few more seconds. He defiantly was crying. Not sobbing, just sniffling to himself, occasionally hiccupping.

I cracked the door open. "Rog…?"

He looked up at me, unfazed.

"You all right, man?"

The sliver of light that the door let in fell on half of his face, the few tears still making their way down his face lighting up, little highlights in the dark. "She's dead, isn't she?"

He was drunk, overtired, spent.

"No."

He wiped his eyes and looked away from me, dissmisively. "She will be."

My brow furrowed. "She's okay, Roger." I was lying – he knew it.

"Yeah… I know. We're all okay, right? That's when they keep telling me. We're okay."

I had no idea what to say to him. He was right; we kept telling ourselves that we were fine, that everything was going to be all right, even though we knew it wasn't. Lily was out on the stairs right now, proving that to us.

"Stay here," I ordered, closing the door.

"I always do," he said, bitterly.

I picked the phone back up. "Joanne?"

"Is he okay?"

I sighed. " 'Okay' isn't exactly the word I'd use…"

She started to say something, but I didn't hear. At that moment, Mark walked back into the loft, slowly, stoically, his face hard and unreadable.

He had Lily in his arms, her hands linked behind his neck. She looked fragile, breakable, like a glass ballerina, a damaged china doll. Her eyes were champagne, and when she inhaled deeply, shakily, it was poetry. Mark's footsteps were music, terrifyingly sad and slow and heavy.

As they walked I felt a strange, oppressive heat in the loft, following them. The heat swallowed up all sound except Mark's footsteps. He moved slowly, deliberately. Lily moved loosely, like smoke. I didn't move at all.

Mark didn't meet my eyes as he walked by me, though I stared at him, stupidly, dazed. He laid Lily out on the sofa, pulling a blanket around her.

I could hear something calling my name – the phone, I was still holding the phone.

"I gotta go," I murmured into the mouthpiece. I clicked it off before I got a response. I didn't even remember who I had been talking to.

I heard nothing but Roger, tossing and turning and weeping in his room, I felt nothing but heat, heat, heat, I saw nothing but a glass ballerina.

_We're okay._

**End of Part Three: No One Ever Said It Would Be This Hard. Oh, Take Me Back to the Start.  
**- _The Scientist_, Coldplay

* * *

**AN:** Okay, so the whole start and end of Part Three really don't make any sense. I had intended to make only three parts, but realized I needed a fourth for things to flow nicely. Either that or I would have a seriously LONG Part Three... but that's me and my poor planning for you :)

Okay, so your reviews are **making my life** :) Thanks _so_ much. I love any and all feedback, so please keep it coming!

The story is almost over, but forgive me if my updates are slow in coming. Rest assured that the end is in sight that it will be up sooner rather than later... hopefully, lol.

All right, so, things to think about? Hmmm... Well, everyone is going to have to deal with what Lily's going through, but it affects one person particularly hard. Also, like I said - we will see Renties that you might not expect *cough cough*.  
To be perfectly honest, I'm not sure of what exactly will happen, I just know how it's all going to end up!

Lastly, just curious: do you guys have a fave chapter/storyline? Anything particular that you like/hate? Just wondering :)

Anyways, like I said, I love all your reviews. Thaaaank you :D


	19. Open Your Eyes

**Part Four: You've Been Pulling on the Strings Playing Puppeteer for Kings and You've Had Enough.  
**- _Steer_, Missy Higgins

Ch. 19 - POV: **Roger**

**"Get up, get out, get away from these liars."  
**- _Open Your Eyes_, Snow Patrol

Two weeks ago, Lily tried to kill herself.

That sucked.

And she drank all my booze.

That sucked, too.

I haven't slept since then. My eyes burn. It hurts to move. But every time I close my eyes, I see horrible things. Things I don't want to think about.

And I see _her_.

I knew then that there is no God. There's was nothing bigger then this, then us. There's only us, there's only this.

That depressed me. It wasn't like I had been close to 'God' before… but it was always something in the back of my mind, something that I could fall back on, a safety net – just in case.

(And she's with God, right? She's okay, isn't she?)

But we're falling. And there's no net.

And, fuck, it _hurts_ when we land.

My head was swimming. My thoughts were static, not moving. But somehow vivid, unreal. Death came alive in my mind.

Nothing made sense. All I wanted was to sleep, to be in blissful, numb darkness for a few hours… but it didn't work that like for me anymore.

I hated the loft.

_I hate it. I hate it. I hate it._

(I was suffocating, drowning, entombed.)

I hadn't been outside since I came back from Santa Rosa. It had never bothered me before, but for some reason that night I felt cooped up, stuck, imprisoned.

Like a bird with its wings cut off or something… I was never very good with metaphors.

It struck me that I could leave. I didn't _need_ to stay here.

So I grabbed what was left of my whiskey and headed for the door, my heart racing. It took me a while to realize that I was scared.

I ignored my pager, reminding me it was time for an AZT break. It didn't matter if I lived or died. I was already half-dead anyways.

But I knew I'd never do what Lily did – try to _make_ myself die. If I was meant to die, I would. I wouldn't _stop_ death, but I wouldn't bring it faster then it wanted to come.

How could I?

How could I put them through that? How could I hurt that last good things in my life? The people I was terrified to love, but did anyways?

I staggered down the stairs and went outside.

Cold air – fresh air. I inhaled, deeply. New York smog and taxi exhaust pipe fumes. As fresh as the air could be _here_, I guessed.

And I walked.

I knew they didn't know where I was, that they'd wake up tomorrow and worry… but that didn't seem to register with me then.

I wanted to _walk_. To walk and walk and walk and be outside – away from their sad faces and the sobs they thought I couldn't hear. Away from pity, whispering about Maureen, constant nagging not to drink and heavy sighs while they looked out the window.

(The window she came in through. Remember? She was radiant, she was sunlight, she was love. No sunlight now. It's late. The moon's out.)

I saw her eyes.

I walked, even though it hurt to move, even though every part of me begged me to lie down, to rest, to _sleep_.

But I wanted to be where no one could find me.

Especially her.

I knew that I'd never escape her. I'd have to sleep sometime and when I did, she'd be there.

I saw her everywhere.

I stumbled onward, through alleys and streets I'd never heard of.

And I sang to myself.

Because I needed to fill the emptiness in my head before something horrible did.

"Can't get them out of my mind and I find I can't hide…"

I couldn't hide but I'd be damned if I wasn't going to try.

* * *

When I came to I was sitting in an alley somewhere.

It was dark. I had no idea how much time had passed.

I didn't care.

I wished I hadn't finished the whiskey, though.

But I made to attempt to get up.


	20. Vindicated

Ch. 20 - POV: **Collins**

**"I am flawed, but I am cleaning up so well. I am seeing in me now the things you swore you saw yourself."  
**- _Vindicated_, Dashboard Confessional

We couldn't find Roger.

He must have left some time in the night, but none of us heard him go. I called the police. But they said they couldn't so anything until he had been missing for at least 24 hours.

"You don't _understand_," I tried to explain. "He _never_ leaves. Something's wrong."

But I didn't get anywhere with them. Police were never much help with us.

Mark was panicky and scared, though he tried not to show it. He fidgeted and played with his glasses, unable to sit still. But Lily seemed oddly calm and collected. I realized that Lily, though she had her demons (ans, oh, how she had them), she had not always been consumed by them. She had been clean for a while now, too. I almost saw the girl that had moved in from Chicago again. It gave me a bit of hope – maybe we all could be fixed.

Weirdly enough, she was the one who helped Mark and I figure out what to do. Maybe it was because she didn't know Roger as well as we did and could detach herself from the situation. I don't know. But she managed it.

"Mark," she ordered, "you go out on your bike. You know where he might wander off to, right?"

"I, uh, I think so. I'll start with the Life Café."

"Sounds good. Collins, call up anyone Roger would know and might go to. Tell everyone who'll listen that he's missing."

I nodded. "We can make posters again."

"Wait at least a day for that," Lily said. "He may he right under our noses."

Mark was already at his bike, waiting near the door. "Lily, you'll stay here?"

She shook her head.

"But someone should be here in case he comes back," he reasoned. In reality, I knew he just wanted to keep an eye on her, not have to worry about where she was, too. Everyone else might be able to push that night on the stairs to the back of their minds, but not him. He wanted to keep her safe, and that meant knowing where she was.

"It should be Collins. Roger knows him better then me. Plus, Collins can phone people I don't know."

It made sense. I saw Mark racking his mind for another excuse to keep her here.

"But you can't go off by yourself… You…you don't know New York well enough," he said quickly.

"I was just getting to that. Collins, call Maureen. The two of us will walk. Also, does Benny have a car?"

Benny? Mark and I exchanged a look. Neither of us had considered asking him for help, but it made sense. "Yeah," I answered. "He does."

"Good. He'll drive around then. Everyone keep your pagers with you."

I checked mine again. I'd paged Roger at least fifty times. No reply.

Mark must have tried three hundred times. He inhaled deeply. "Okay," he said. "I'm off."

We said goodbye and then I raced to the phone. I looked up Benny's new number and dialed frantically. Benny answered. "Hello?"

"Ben, it's Collins. Is Maureen there?"

"What time is it?" he asked groggily.

"I don't know. Benny, this is important."

"Okay, okay," he mumbled. "One second."

I inhaled deeply and nodded at Lily. She nodded back, folding her arms over her chest.

"Hello?" came a voice on the other end of the line.

"Maureen!" I cried.

"Collins, what's wrong?"

"It's Roger – he's gone."

"Gone? Gone _where_?"

"We don't know."

"You mean he _left_ the loft?"

"Yeah. You need to get here as soon as you can. You and Lily need to search on foot, send Benny in the car, okay?"

"Okay, okay."

I could hear her struggling with something, probably trying to get dressed. "We'll be there as soon as we can."

We hung up.

I looked over at Lily.

"You're handling this well," I said, with a sad, half-hearted smile.

"I'm terrified," she said, quietly. "But we gotta keep each other going, right?"

I nodded. "Yeah. We look out for each other." I smiled and she smiled back. But she hand was shaking.

"Thanks," she said. "Thanks for looking out for me."

I walked over and hugged her. We knew each other well now and we needed each other. Love heals and we needed love. Cliché, but true.

* * *

Maureen exploded through the door. "Let's go."

Lily nodded, grabbing her coat. "Right."

Maureen extended her hand and Lily took it, the two rushing out the door.

Benny stayed. I realized I hadn't seen him since Mimi's funeral.

We looked at each other for a moment. How could two friends drift so far apart that they were like strangers?

"We'll find him," Benny said after a long pause.

"I know we will."

"I'm sorry," he said, quickly. "I'm sorry if I did anything that made him - "

"Forget it." I smiled at him. "It's just good to see you, man."

"You, too."

With that he left and I sat down by the phone, ready to call everyone in New York if I had to.

But a weird sense of peace filled me, though I was still scared to death. We were all (almost all – we'd never be _all_ again) together again, working together, helping each other. Bonds might be tested, tried, even forgotten, but friendship was thicker then blood. I clung to that. I've always clung that.


	21. Lady

Ch. 21 - POV: **Lily**

**"And I have walked these streets so long. There ain't nothing right, there ain't nothing wrong, but the little wet tears on my baby's shoulder."  
**- _Lady_, Regina Spektor

Maureen and I ran down the stairs and swung open the door, stepping outside. It was only then that we realized that we had no idea where we should be going.

"Which way?" I asked, stupidly looking up and down the street in front of us, somehow hoping Roger had left a trail of breadcrumbs for us to follow.

He hadn't.

Maureen bit her bottom lip, thinking. "I don't know. Let's head that way," she said, pointing down to the left, "then we'll swing back around later."

I nodded and we headed off.

It was unusually cold. I pulled my sweater closer, looking up the road.

I felt Maureen looking at me.

I sighed. I knew exactly what was going through her head.

"You can ask me about it, you know."

"Can I?" she asked, sounding genuinely surprised.

I shrugged, shoving my hands into my pockets. "Well… what _else_ have we got to talk about?"

Maureen looked away from me to her feet moving along the sidewalk. We both slowed down as we passed a narrow ally, searching it carefully. He wasn't there.

Our hearts sank.

Maureen turned back to me. "You know… you're right. We really don't have anything to talk about, do we?"

I played with my ring, twisting it around my finger. "We _do_," I said, looking back up at her, "but let's face it: everything we have to talk about is very dramatic and heavy. All doom and gloom. No small talk here."

She gave a small smile. "Yeah, I know… but I mean _us_, you know? We're not… friends."

I raised an eyebrow. "We're not?"

Maureen shrugged. "Well, we _are_, but… we're not close, are we?" She sighed and went on. "I mean, you and Mark are always together, and you and Collins talk all the time. You even got _Roger_ talking to you that one time. But me and you?" She shrugged. "Nothing."

I shrugged, too. "Yeah, I guess you're right. But… you were the one I told about… about my problem," I pointed out, looking away.

"Right place, right time."

I didn't say anything. She was right. I had only told _her_ because she was the first person I saw.

She looked over at me again. "I'm sorry I wasn't there."

I meet her gaze. "Where?"

She ignored me. "Collins told me. He called me. I told him I wanted to come over, to see you," she rambled, "to be with you guys, but he said not to. He said," she went on, looking down at her feet, "that you just wanted to be on your own, that you weren't talking to anyone. Not even Mark, really. I thought I'd… just be in your way, you know?" She looked back up at me. "But I did _want_ to be there for you. You know that, right? I would have been there in a _heartbeat_."

I nodded, swallowing an unexpected lump in my throat. I had hoped the subject of my almost-dive down the stairs wouldn't come up… but that was just wishful thinking. Besides, I _had_ told her she could ask.

"I know you would have been there, Mo." I took her hand and squeezed it. "But I was all right… I _am_ all right." I sighed. I did _not_ want to talk about this, but I felt like I owed it to her somehow. After what I had put everyone through, and what they were going through, it would have been unfair of me to close myself off.

I laughed a little.

Maureen looked at me. "What?" she asked. "What's so funny?"

"It's nothing… it's just… do you remember the first night we met? When I first came to New York?"

"Yeah… what about it?"

"I remember… you were smoking on the balcony and I was trying to talk to you – butting in, I guess." I smiled again, remembering. "I must have been _so_ annoying. All I wanted to do was talk to you and get you to open up to me… to be _friends_. The roles have kinda switched now, huh?"

Maureen smiled, too. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

I laughed quietly. An easy laugh. A sad laugh.

Maureen shrugged. "I don't now, Chicago… it's just… I've always had girlfriends, you know? Whether it was April, or Angel, or Mimi… I've always had girls around me. I think I've just been stuck with those boys for too long."

I smiled again. "To be honest, I've never really had any girlfriends. It was always just me and… and Shannon. Just the two of us, you know?"

Maureen nodded.

I shrugged, trying to smile again. "But, I think now I need one more then ever."

"Well," Maureen sighed, swinging her arm around my shoulder, "the pickings are pretty slim. Looks like you're stuck with me, Little Miss Chicago."

I smiled. "That's all right with me, Big Bad New York."

* * *

We started talking about the boys – about Collins most of all. Maureen told me all about Angel. She sounded amazing. I wished she could have been there with us – she would have known what to do.

"So, tell me what you know about this 'Tom' guy,' Maureen said as she kicked an empty bottle out of the way.

I thought for a minute. "Not much, actually. All I know is what Collins has made very clear – _they're not dating_."

Maureen nodded. "He's said that about a million times, hasn't he?" She sighed. "I think he just feels guilty. It's only been a few years since Angel died… maybe he thinks it's too soon."

I shrugged. "It's only too soon if _he_ thinks it is. If he wants to go out with this guy, he should."

"Yeah, but I'm sure he's thinking about her." Maureen thought for a moment, a little smile finding its way onto her face, a distant look in her eye. "They loved each other so much, Chicago. You shoulda seen it. I don't think he'll ever be as happy with anyone as he was with Angel."

I nodded. "You're probably right."

Maureen shook herself out of some memory. "Would you be mad?"

I furrowed my brow, confused. "Mad about what?"

"Say something happened to you…" Her voice trailed off as she realized how insensitive she had just sounded. She shook her head. "Sorry. Never mind."

"No, ask me. It's all right. We're friends, remember?"

She forced a little smile for me. "I was just wondering. If something – _hypothetically_ – happened to you and a few years later Mark got with someone new, would you be mad?"

"No, I don't think so. Wouldn't really matter though, would it?"

Maureen looked down at the sidewalk, chewing on her lip for a moment. "So you don't believe in, like… angels then. You don't believe in any kind of afterlife?"

I felt sorry for Maureen. So much had been happening, and with her staying at Benny's, no one had really considered what she was going through. Clearly, she had been thinking a lot. And seemingly about death.

I twisted my ring around my finger a few times.

"No, I believe."

She looked back up.

"More then believe," I went on, "I _know_. People just don't… disappear, right? I mean, sure, their _bodies_ do, but not the _people_."

I believed that. I had to believe that.

Maureen looked puzzled. "You _know_? How do you _know_?"

I sighed. "I don't know what they're called: ghosts, angels, spirits… doesn't matter. All I know is that they're there. Because you know when they're upset with you. When they're happy, or proud, or sad." My voice got softer as I spoke.

I felt Maureen's hand on your shoulder. "You've felt her, then? Shannon?"

"Yeah," I nodded, fighting the lump forming in my throat. "I felt her every time I swallowed one of those damn pills. She was angry. I _knew_." I looked over at Maureen, her usually pretty face twisted with concern. "And," I went on, "I knew – I _felt_ – how disappointed she was. That night on the stairs. It's like I could see the look on her face – the one she'd always give me when we were kids." I shook my head. "She was _so_ disappointed in me."

"Is that why you stayed?"

Tears I couldn't help spilled down my cheeks and blurred my vision. "No. No, I stayed for him. I couldn't… I just – I stayed for him."

* * *

We stopped and got coffee. Maureen paged Collins. No word yet.

"Hey Chicago," Maureen asked, taking a careful sip of her coffee. "Do you think I should get a job? A normal one?"

"What's 'normal'?" I asked.

She shrugged. "Something… you know, _normal_. Like… a librarian or something."

I laughed.

"What?"

"I'm sorry… but _you_? A _librarian_? I don't see it happening."

She laughed, too. "I guess you're right."

"Why do you ask?"

We turned into a little ally, looking as we went. "I don't know. It's something I've been thinking about for a while. It just seems like I should. That's what people do, they have normal jobs and normal lives."

"But would you be happy with a 'normal life'?"

She looked up at me. "What's happiness got to do with it?"

I must have looked surprised, because she sighed, looking behind a garbage can. "Right now, I don't care about being happy… I just want to be _safe_. I want my friends to be _safe_. That's normal."

I grabbed her hand. "There's not a job in the world normal enough to protect everyone you love. No white picket fence to keep away things that'll put them in danger. Look at my family – a beautiful mother, a charming father, two well behaved little daughters. Then Mum died in a car crash, Dad's drinking got worse, the sisters took off as fast as they could… then Shannon got sick and I got addicted to pain killers. And tried to kill myself – twice."

We left the ally, tossing our empty cups away.

Maureen nodded, slowly.

"Not enough normal in the world," I murmured.

I lit a cigarette and offered her one. She didn't look at me, but I could see the tears in her eyes.

* * *

We looked for Roger for hours.

Maureen cried. She cried for Roger; cried for all the terrible things he said and the terrible things she did. She cried because she was terrified that that fight was the last time she was going to see Roger.

She cried because she loved him so fucking much.

And we walked and walked and walked.

And I played with my ring and thought about stairs and flying and ghosts.

We looked and looked. But we couldn't find him.


	22. Birds and Boats

Ch. 22 - POV: **Mark**

**"But you can skyrocket away from me and never come back if you find another galaxy."**  
- _Birds and Boats_, Gregory and the Hawk

I rode my bike for hours. I didn't even notice the ache in my legs after a while. I didn't really notice anything, not the time, not the people I nearly knocked over as I whizzed by, not the fact that I hadn't eaten all day.

All I focused on was Roger.

I was terrified history was repeating itself. We had already been through this before, panicking and looking wildly for someone we loved.

I couldn't help but be angry at him. How could he – he of all people, who _knew_ how hard this was – put us through this again? And why _now_? Now that we had so much else on our minds? Between Lily, Maureen and Benny, and the fact that the rent hadn't been paid in tow months, it was almost impossible to try and worry about something else.

And yet there I was.

Worried.

I checked everywhere. _Everywhere_.

I couldn't find him.

Tears I didn't want blurred my vision. I stopped by bike for the first time since I'd left the loft and propped it up against a brick wall. And for a while I waited there, hoping that this suffocating sadness would lift, would leave me alone.

It didn't.

I had a dark, terrifying feeling that it never would.

My pager beeped and my heart jumped. It was Roger – it had to be!

It wasn't. It was Collins.

I looked up at the sky; the sun was already setting. I knew I'd have to go home. I needed to see everyone, to hear what they knew. I needed to be near Lily again.

But I wouldn't be gone long. I swore then that I wouldn't stop looking until I found him. It didn't matter if I was angry with him or not – he was still my best friend.

And I couldn't loose him.


End file.
